Collide
by forever22
Summary: Post Season 5 with a character crossover from Supernatural. Brooke realizes that she's not as happy as the rest of her friends are and begins to make changes to get what she wants out of life. Brooke/Dean SPN /Lucas story.
1. Always the lonely soul

_Author's Note: Things are pretty much the same as they've been on the show. There are a few key changes that will be introduced throughout the story. Keep in mind that this story centers around Brooke Davis. Thanks for reading!_

Brooke Davis unlocked the glass doors to her boutique and walked into the empty store, neglecting to flip the switch on. Her iPhone remained glued to her ear, her shoulder supporting the weight of it as she stuffed her keys into the small clutch she carried. "Vegas? What?"

"We're getting married!" Peyton Sawyer screamed into the phone once more, sharing a breath-taking smile with the love of her life. Lucas Scott grinned from ear to ear with his fiancé nestled safely on his lap. They sat together at the airport terminal while waiting for their flight to board its passengers.

"Oh my God—P. Sawyer, that's… that's—I can't even find the words!" she exclaimed. Brooke discarded her belongings onto the countertop and retraced her steps back to the chaise lounge that sat in the center of her store. "When did this happen? What did Luke say? When did this happen?" she repeated once more, stumbling over the questions as she tried to piece the events of the night together.

"You know, I'm not sure what it was but… he called me and told me he had tickets for Las Vegas and then…," Peyton trailed off as the two bickered over the non-romantic proposal made over the phone. "Can you believe it, though?" her best friend asked once she returned on the line.

Brooke wrinkled her eyebrows, still unsure of how one phone call could bring her two friends together to run off and elope in the city of sin. The logical side of her wanted to talk sense into them. What about their family and friends who'd been there for the two of them from day one? Did they not deserve to be there to share in this momentous occasion? Wasn't Lucas _just _engaged two months ago to another woman he'd proclaimed to love til death parted them?

But Brooke would never voice her opinion. As the devoted best friend and ex-girlfriend, she understood her duty as cheerleader and support system for Leyton long before she had a choice. She smiled and laughed breathlessly into the phone. "I'm happy for you guys," she offered.

There was a slight pause on the other line before Peyton spoke. "Is everything all right, Brooke?"

She closed her eyes and inhaled a steep breath at the question. Was she all right? It seemed the question somehow found a way to rise from the ashes whenever Peyton and Lucas found their way back on the road to happily ever after. But this wasn't high school anymore. She wasn't the seventeen year old girl in love with her best friend's soul mate, right? She'd let go of that dream—that _girl_—a long time ago. "Everything's great, Peyt. Listen, you two have a safe flight, okay?" she said. "Try to keep the kink level down over there and… just… I'm happy for you, P. Sawyer, you know that?"

"I know," came the response as her best friend's voice softened at the admission. "I love you, Brooke—" she paused and laughed once more and added— "We love you, Brooke. We don't know how we would've gotten through the past couple of months without you. I mean that."

Tears threatened to spill from her eyes, but she managed to keep them in check with another shaky breath. There it was; another reminder of her place in their world. Always the third wheel, always the lonely soul left out in the cold. "I love you guys, too. Listen, I've gotta go, but I want all the details when you come home, you hear me?" She willed her voice to sound perky and upbeat, just the way everyone expected her. She didn't wait for a response as she pressed the end button on her phone. She exhaled the breath she'd been holding, shuddering along with the breaking of her heart.

Peyton stared at the phone in confusion, her facial expression displaying the thoughts on her mind. "Everything all right with Brooke?" Luke asked as he tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear.

She brought her attention back to him and hesitated before she answered. "She says everything is fine but…"

"..But?" Luke pushed when she didn't continue.

"I don't know," she answered, laying her phone down against her knee. "You know that tone that Brooke gets when she tries convincing people that she's okay?"

Luke nodded his head, too familiar with his ex-girlfriend's mannerisms. "You think something's up?"

Peyton genuinely thought the question over in her mind before she shook the idea off. "Maybe," she answered truthfully. "But you know Brooke Davis. If she doesn't want anyone to see her vulnerable side…"

"Then you're not going to see it," he finished knowingly. "She'll come around when she's ready, I guess," he answered. He offered his bride to be a dazzling smile as he pulled her closer to him. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to be happy for once. Finally, he'd gotten the girl of his dreams. Nothing could spoil the moment. He pushed back the feeling of history repeating itself and held on tightly to the woman in his arms. He'd made the right decision… right?

Brooke bit her lip in a last attempt to keep her tears at bay, but once she disconnected her call with Peyton, there was no stopping the emptiness that surrounded her and embodied her life. Haley and Nathan had each other and a beautiful baby boy to fill their lives with joy and pure happiness. Luke and Peyton finally got their acts together and were now taking the final step in cementing their future as a united front.

And here was Brooke Davis. Beautiful. Brilliant. Brave.

And alone.

The tears fell from her eyes in floods, and she did nothing to stop them from falling. Brooke bent over and hugged herself, pulling her body into the fetal position as she lay on the cushioned couch. She cried for the future she'd given up on years ago with Lucas Scott. She cried for the normalcy of life she'd forsaken in exchange for being a successful fashion designer. She cried for the unconditional love she'd never received as the daughter of Victoria Davis. She cried for the missing piece of her heart that stayed with baby Angie.

Brooke was so consumed and overwhelmed with her grief, pain and anger that she never heard the front door open. She didn't see the man slowly approach her until it was too late. When the floorboards creaked beneath his motorcycle boots, she looked up in time to catch the brunt of his fist, knocking her unconscious as she fell to the floor.

The insistent beeping did nothing to alleviate the migraine in her head. She tried opening her eyes for the first time in what seemed like forever, but that too seemed to be an impossible feat. Her throat felt as dry as sandpaper, causing her mouth to be as dry as the desert sand. Excruciating pain vibrated throughout her entire body, which made her wince once the feeling came back into her muscles. She groaned in pure frustration and agony. What was going on?

"Ms. Davis?"

She instinctively turned her head towards the direction of the voice. Her eyes squinted together as she tried once more to pry her eyes open. Failing miserably, she attempted to break apart chapped lips with her dry tongue, a task that remained unsuccessful as well.

Brooke was grateful when the man noticed her intentions and slipped a plastic straw in between her lips. She would've moaned in pure satisfaction, but the act of sipping required her full attention. Displaying her appreciation to this mystery man would have to wait.

"Slow down there, Ms. Davis. There's more where that came from," he spoke once more.

She ignored his comment and continued to sip greedily from the straw. The water washed her mouth completely, then fell like waterfalls down her raspy throat. Brooke stopped when there was no water left to drink and licked her lips with the remaining water that dripped from the straw. "Thank you," she spoke roughly, testing out her voice.

Her eyes finally opened, and she found herself in a hospital room. Her eyes closed into narrow slits on their own account, adjusting to the brightness of the room she occupied. Though she couldn't turn her head if she wanted to, she didn't need to look to her side to find the monitors that hooked up to her body, checking her vitals. The sounds of _I Love Lucy _blared in a distant room, along with conversations the nurses initiated as they walked past her door. She willed her eyes open once more to find the mystery man standing before her. "What happened?" she asked.

"I was hoping you could tell me that, Ms. Davis," he spoke once more. He walked towards the water pitcher by her bed and refilled it to the brim. "My name is Dean Winchester, and I'm a detective for the Tree Hill Police Department."

She watched in anticipation as he brought the water to her again. He held the cup inches from her face and led the plastic tube to her lips once more. She devoured the drink as he continued to speak. "Do you remember anything from last night?"

Knowing that she wasn't here for that long, Brooke exhaled as she gingerly shook her head from side to side. "I was at my store—"

"Clothes Over Bros?" Dean asked.

She nodded her head. "I was planning on getting some work done," she spoke, forcing the words to come out of her mouth. He gestured towards the water pitcher with a raise of an eyebrow, and she declined the offer with a shake of her head. "I was on the phone when I came in. I unlocked the door, put my purse on the counter and sat down on the chaise."

"Do you remember what happened next?" he asked patiently. Brooke brought her attention back to the man before her and studied him closely. He was a very good looking man with blue eyes and dirty blonde spiked hair. His face was chiseled and evenly proportioned with stubble lingering in a patch below his bottom lip. His features remained schooled and somewhat cold, as if he were here to do his job and nothing more.

Once she realized she was checking him out, she shook her head and brought her attention back to her hands clasped before her. That was when she noticed the bruises that covered her arms. She stared at the purple markings in horror, raising them for better inspection. Her hands flew to her face, and once she felt the markings of dry blood in different areas of her skin, the tears flooded her eyes in a heartbeat. She held it together as her hands roamed upwards, her once delicate fingers tracing the edges of the bandage that wrapped around her head. She raised horrified green eyes to his controlled blue ones. "What happened to me?" she whispered.

A flicker of emotion flashed into his eyes before the mask was back on. Detective Winchester took a step forward to explain to her the events of last night before they were interrupted by her new visitors.

"Brooke, we came as soon as we heard—" Nathan Scott exclaimed as he made his way into the room, his wife Haley James Scott hot on his heels. Brooke wasn't sure if he stopped midsentence due to his initial reaction to her beating or because of the fact that she wasn't alone. "Oh my God…" he said as he looked at his dear friend.

"Dean?" All eyes turned towards Haley as she stared at the detective who stood over her best friend's bed. "What are you doing here?" she asked, teetering on the verge of excitement over seeing him and pain over her best friend's condition.

"You two know each other?" Nathan found himself asking as he looked from one to the other.

"Haley James," the man in question answered. A corner of his mouth lifted in a smirk, seeing as a smile and giddy display was most certainly out of the question due to the circumstances. "I asked to be transferred back home."

"Home?" Brooke finally spoke up, exchanging glances between everyone in the room.

"Brooke, Nathan," Haley began. "This is Dean Winchester. My brother."


	2. Oh, you know—bruised and battered

Haley James Scott resisted the urge to run into her brother's arms and engulf him into a bear hug like she wanted to. She hadn't seen her brother in eight years, minus the occasional birthday and Christmas card he'd remember to send a couple months after the date. The baby of the family had so many unanswered questions that she needed answers to. Why did her brother distance himself from the family all those years ago? Why hadn't she seen him since the day he walked out of the James House? Her mind was running a mile a minute, and though she felt worthy of his attention, she knew Dean was on the clock and the long awaited confrontation would have to wait. Consequently, she breathed a sigh of relief knowing her brother was assigned to her friend's case. If anyone could find out who did this to Brooke, it was her older brother.

"Your brother?" Nathan asked his wife, his eyes switching between the two siblings. "What are you doing here in Tree Hill? Aren't you some big shot homicide detective in New York City or something?"

The man in question couldn't help his eyes from narrowing towards (who he assumed to be was) his brother-in-law. "If you'll excuse me, I'd appreciate it if we saved this conversation for a later time." His tone was firm and daunting while his facial features took up a slight scowl. The older man had a job to do, and he didn't have time to play twenty one questions with his little sister's husband.

Nathan didn't look too pleased by being dismissed, but Haley placed a calming hand on his arm, bringing his attention back to her. "Of course, Dean." She turned her eyes towards her husband this time as she spoke. "This can wait." Nathan sighed impatiently as he ran his free hand through his hair. He focused on his friend and was brought forced to face the reality of the situation. Brooke needed to come first.

"I'm sorry," he apologized whole heartedly to the other man, though his gaze remained firm on his friend.

Dean nodded his head back in acknowledgement, sending a silent thank you to Haley. He watched her offer him a meek smile before walking over to the side of the hospital bed. "Brooke, how are you feeling?" she asked as she gently took her friend's hand to clasp between her own.

Brooke winced at the sensation and a cool grin overtook her features moments later. "Like I've been hit by a car," she muttered distractedly. The brunette looked over to the detective and cocked an eyebrow at him. "Is that what happened?"

Dean stuffed his hands into the pockets of his slacks and shook his head no. "You were attacked at the store last night," he informed her in hopes of jogging her memory.

"What?" Nathan asked, clearly taken back by the admission. His gaze swung over to the beaten woman as he grimaced at her appearance. "Someone beat you up?" he asked incredulously. The idea of beating a woman was beyond anything Nathan could ever attempt to understand. The fact that his childhood friend was a victim of such violence did nothing but disgust him. "How could this have happened? Did someone break into the store?" He directed this question to his brother-in-law.

Under normal circumstances, Detective Winchester would refrain from offering any information in relation to an ongoing investigation. But if he knew his sister, his badge as on officer of the law would be useless to her twenty-one questions. He looked over to Brooke, prepared to ask her permission to go into further detail.

She nodded her head immediately, though the act itself brought a fresh onslaught of pain to her neck. "You can say anything in front of them. They're practically family."

Dean resisted the urge to scoff at the mere mention of family and nodded his head firmly instead. "There was no sign of forced entry which leads us to believe that either one, you knew the suspect and let them in knowingly, or two—"

"I left the door unlocked," she both finished and answered his unspoken question. She closed her eyes at the stupidity of her actions and groaned softly. She wanted to drag her hands across her face, but then she'd be reminded of the condition her body was in. "I'm such an idiot," she scolded herself.

"Brooke, you're not," Haley was quick to defend her friend. "You had no idea this was going to happen. We're in Tree Hill, for goodness sake—not New York."

Her eyes quickly opened as she braced her hands against the mattress of her bed. "My clothes, my store—was anything taken…"

The look on Dean's face alone was enough for her to know she'd not only been roughed up, but robbed on top of that as well. Granted, the chain wasn't as extravagant as her other stores in bigger cities across the nation, but Clothes Over Bros in Tree Hill was holding its own in her small hometown. It was never meant to be a replacement of headquarters, but Brooke found it easy to get work done in the shop formerly known as Karen's Café. The place held memories of the dreams she'd begun having while in high school. It was a place where her ideas ran wild, where she could stand behind the counter and design a custom made couture dress in record time. Someone had invaded and stolen goods from her home, and the thought alone brought tears to her eyes for the second time since waking up in the hospital.

"It's gonna be okay, Brooke," Haley attempted to comfort her friend. She took a seat on an empty space on the bed and rubbed her free hand over Brooke's. "It's just material things. They can be replaced."

Brooke shook her head as she willed her tears not to fall. Her lips thinned at the attempt as one lone tear slipped to trace a single track down her face. "You don't get it, Haley. Clothes Over Bros… that was my home. It was all I had…"

Haley opened her mouth to speak but stopped once she felt Nathan's hand on her shoulder. She turned to look at him with a question in her eyes. His hand squeezed around her shoulder and he brought his attention to Dean. "Can I have a moment alone with Brooke… please?" he asked when it seemed like either sibling would protest.

"Mr. Scott, it's important that I speak with Ms. Davis while the memories are still fresh in her mind—"

"All right," Haley answered as her brother threw her a glare. "I'm sure Brooke will be okay to answer more questions once she has some time to herself," she said, offering her friend a reassuring smile. Her eyebrows furrowed together when Brooke refused to meet her gaze. She looked at Dean. "Besides, it gives us a moment to catch up."

Though every instinct in his body screamed not to leave the room, Dean nodded his head once and followed his sister out of the room. Nathan took the opportunity to have a seat in the same spot his wife just vacated. "You know I love you."

The random comment caused Brooke to look at her friend suddenly. She had no idea where this conversation was going, and the look on her face said just as much. "I love you, Brooke Davis. I've known you for more than half of my life, so I don't want to hear any bullshit about how your clothing store is all you've got going for you."

She opened her mouth to protest, but the words ceased to leave her lips when he fixed her with a glare. He held onto her hand with a tight grip. "Let's be honest. Your parents? Suck. They're so horrible that they almost give Dan a run for his money." He didn't stop when she managed a small smile at the comment. "For a long time, it was you, me and Peyton when we were kids. Do you remember that?"

Brooke smiled full on this time, a dimple making its presence known. "How could I forget? We were the three musketeers."

"You bet your ass we were," Nathan spoke firmly, no hint of sarcasm in his tone. "And eventually our family grew. Now we have Haley and Lucas on our side. We're one big family, Brooke… and if you keep on insisting that you're alone and you're the only one left out, I'm going to have to knock some sense into you."

She laughed at the thought, and his face took on a mockingly serious feature. "Don't doubt me. I _am_ Dan Scott's son, you know."

The smile slowly faded from her eyes as she looked down at her hands. "Who would do something like this, Nate?"

Nathan shook his head and held onto both of her hands with his own. "I don't know, Brooke. I don't know." He paused to take a look at his wife and her brother a few feet outside the door. "But something tells me Haley's long lost big brother will be able to figure it out for all of us."

Outside, Haley rubbed at her arms nervously. It had been a while since she was face to face with Dean Winchester, her mother's first born. Though he often spent his childhood shifted from her house and his father's, Dean took care of her in a way that her sisters never wanted to. He was her knight and shining armor, protecting her from all sorts of evil. There was no bruise too small or no bully too big that Dean couldn't handle. She adored the ground he walked on, and the feeling was mutual.

After an argument spurred between their mother one night, Dean stormed out of the house and refused to come back. To this day, she still didn't know what the fight was about. She never knew the reason why her brother adamantly expressed his desire to never return to Tree Hill. His relationship with their mother had never been the same. Contact at first was a few phone calls and promises to hang out with Haley when he found the time. However, his promises became empty as the years passed on and the two siblings drifted apart. He'd never really gotten along with their sister Taylor, and Vivian and Quinn stopped all forms of contact with him the moment he'd walked out the door.

And now, here they were. Eight years later, and Haley didn't know how to break the ice.

"I don't appreciate what just happened in there, Hales."

Okay. _That_ wasn't how she expected the conversation to go. "What?"

"You heard me," he replied almost instantly. He was sure to keep his voice low so that the gossiping nurses wouldn't hear their conversation. He schooled his features easily to repress the irritation he felt towards his sister. "I'm _working_," he reminded her, as if scolding a child. "I'm on strict orders to follow protocol, and here you are interrupting my job."

She stood staggered by the words that came out of his mouth. Apparently, a lot had changed in the time they'd spent apart. The happiness she felt earlier was slowly replaced with annoyance. She'd forgotten how impossible Dean could be. "Well, excuse me for wanting to give my best friend some time to process the fact that a man could not only _beat_ her beyond the point of consciousness, but destroy the one place where she felt she had a home." Haley's cheeks tinted pink as her anger continued to get the best of her. "And I apologize, from the bottom of my heart, if I used her as an excuse to catch up with my brother, who I haven't seen in a little less than a decade."

He instantaneously mimicked her expression as he stared his sister down. Before a word could escape his lips, the two were interrupted by the ringing of Haley's cell phone. He scowled at her when she moved to answer it. "You know you're not allowed to use cell phones in the hospital—"

"Oh, shut up," she quickly scolded as she picked up the call, turning her body away from her brother. "Hello?"

"Hey Hales," came the weary response on the other line. Lucas picked up on his best friend's tone immediately and questioned her on her behavior. "..is everything okay?"

"Luke," she breathed on a sigh of relief. "Where have you been? I've been trying to reach you and Peyton all morning. She's not picking up either."

"She's actually here with me," he looked at his fiancé as he answered. "It's a long story, but basically we're… we're back together."

Haley managed a small smile as she closed her eyes, happy that her best friend had finally followed his heart. "That's great, Luke. I'm happy for you."

"Thanks, I'm happy, too. I actually bought tickets to Vegas last night and proposed to her over the phone," he hesitantly admitted.

"What?!" she screeched over the phone, placing a hand to her head. "Lucas, tell me you didn't get married without having us there or else, so help me God—"

"Relax, Hales!" he chuckled onto the line, sharing a smile with Peyton who'd just exited the restroom of their hotel suite. "We decided that we wanted to have a huge wedding back home in Tree Hill. It didn't feel right… eloping in the spur of the moment."

"Good," Haley breathed as she took in her surroundings, remembering the reason why she'd been trying to reach Lucas and Peyton in the first place. "Look, Luke. Something's happened."

"What's wrong, Hales?" he shared a look with his fiancé as the question came out.

"Luke… it's Brooke. She was attacked at her store last night."

"What?" Lucas asked, shooting upright from his bed as he held the phone closer to his ear. "What do you mean _she was attacked_? Is she all right?"

Haley sighed and rubbed at her temples with her free hand. "As far as we know, she's okay. She's pretty roughed up, Luke. She's a mess over the whole situation."

"Where are you?" he asked as he motioned for Peyton to collect what little belongings they brought for their trip. Though she carried a worried expression, she didn't ask what was going on and complied with Lucas' request.

"We're at Mercy Hospital," she answered once more.

"We're leaving right now," Lucas replied before disconnecting the phone. He filled in Peyton on their best friend's condition, and before they knew it, they were in a taxi heading back to the airport.

Haley snapped her cell phone shut and took a moment to collect herself. She braced her arms on top of the nurses' station counter and took a couple of deep breaths. Brooke was attacked. Lucas chose Peyton and whisked her away to Vegas for an impromptu wedding. And her brother was home and had changed into someone she couldn't recognize.

Once she realized she'd kept him waiting, her eyes opened and sought him out in the crowded hallway. When she drew her attention back to Brooke's room, she groaned as she watched him stand over her bed. So much for giving Brooke some space. She walked back in to hear her friend recounting what little she remembered of the night before.

"I was in a bad place," she admitted, her fingers twisting in knots on her lap. "I was really sad about stuff that happened earlier that day, so after I hung up the phone with Peyton, I lay down on the couch in my store and started crying." Brooke refused to make eye contact with the other patrons in the room. She knew Haley had walked in a short while earlier, but she was too embarrassed by last night's emotions to acknowledge anyone. "I heard a creak on the floor, and when I looked up… I guess I got hit or something."

She brought her hand up to the side of her left temple and felt a bump underneath her fingertips. "Right here," she whispered softly. "He hit me here, and I blacked out."

Nathan stood silently by Brooke's side, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. Haley remained silent as one arm crossed over her chest, the other hand pressed against her mouth. Dean seemed to be the only person without a reaction as he jotted down her statement in a notepad. "Did you see anything that could help us track him down?" he asked professionally. His baritone had dropped a pitch with Brooke's words, his only indication of emotion.

Brooke shook her head no. "I had tears in my eyes, so I couldn't really see a thing."

Dean nodded his head and scribbled down some more notes before standing upright and locking eyes with the brunette. "Okay. If you remember anything, no matter how small the detail, you be sure to call me, Ms. Davis."

"Brooke," she corrected him. She finally managed to make eye contact with someone and directed her gaze on Dean. "My name is Brooke, and I'd like for you to call me Brooke, Detective."

"All right," he answered with an appropriate grin. He _was_ on the clock after all. "Then I'd appreciate it if you called me Dean, Brooke."

She gave him a soft smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Deal."

"Ms. Davis, how are we feeling?" a nurse asked as she walked in with the patient's chart in hand.

"Like I got beat up?" came the cheery response. The three visitors shot her surprised looks, bringing Brooke to laugh. "Come on guys, if anyone gets to joke around about the conversation, it should be the victim, don't you think?"

"Brooke, that's not funny," Haley spoke with concerned eyes.

"Sorry," she apologized. "So nurse woman," she said looking towards the nurse assigned to her. "When do I get to go home?"

The nurse looked over the notations made on her chart and shrugged. "I wouldn't have that information here. You'd have to wait until your Dr. Copeland is ready for you."

"Dr. Copeland?" Brooke asked surprised. "Isn't he a cardiologist?" she asked, panicked.

The nurse offered her a reassuring smile as she patted her leg over the blanket. "Dr. Copeland donates time to work in the ER once a month. He should be in shortly."

"He's already here," Dr. Ethan Copeland pronounced as he entered the room. He took the chart from the charge nurse and looked over to the woman he'd seen no less than twenty-four hours ago. "Brooke, how's the body feeling?" he asked sympathetically.

"Oh, you know—bruised and battered," she joked again. She ignored the glare Haley threw at her and spoke to her physician. "You're quite the hero, Dr. Copeland. Saving lives with free surgeries, donating time at the ER… can you fly, too?" she asked with a smile.

"No, I assure you I'm nothing special," he told her. He opened her chart and wrote some notes. "Feeling nauseated, light headed?"

"No," she replied. "Do I have a concussion?"

He shook his head. "Your test results came back earlier this morning, and you seem to be fine," he answered. "With any luck, you should be out of here in a couple of days. Three tops."

"Three days?" she groaned. "What's with the hold up?"

Dr. Copeland sighed. "Brooke, your body needs time to recover, and I'd really like for you to take bed rest seriously—"

"Fine, then I will in the comfort of my own home," came the stubborn response.

Her doctor let out a breath and clasped his hands together behind him. "Brooke, if you'd like to discharge yourself against my orders, that's your decision. I don't recommend it, but I'll relent on the sole condition that you have someone monitoring you for the next couple of days."

Brooke's eyes saddened at his words. "Peyton left town with Lucas…"

"It's fine. She'll stay with us," Nathan said immediately. He looked over to his wife for reassurance. She nodded at him as they turned to Brooke.

"Guys, I couldn't ask you to do that."

"You're not asking, we're offering," Nathan corrected her.

She hesitated before she spoke. "I… I don't want Jamie to see me like this."

Haley swallowed roughly before taking a firmer stance. "We'll explain to him what's going on," she spoke up.

Nathan nodded his head in agreement. "What do you say Davis? It's either this or more hospital time."

"Fine," she begrudgingly answered. "Thanks you guys. It really means a lot," she said softly.

Dean watched as both friends engulfed Brooke into a hug, reassuring her of her importance in their lives. He stood in the background and watched in silence. He figured now wouldn't be the best time to tell his baby sister he needed a place to stay.


	3. You flatter yourself

"So, Dean Winchester," Brooke found herself saying as she smoothed the covers over her legs.

She sat snugly in a queen sized bed in one of the Scotts' spare rooms. The room itself was sparsely decorated with a few pieces of art adorning the beige walls. It had all the simple necessities for entertainment; a widescreen television set with a DVD system, a BOSE surround sound stereo system, and a desktop computer. The nightstands at either side of her bed held an ornate vase and a lampshade. She admired the room and felt the homey vibe Haley was successful at creating. She turned her attention back to Nathan and smiled. "I never knew Haley even had a brother. I figured it was just her and Taylor."

Nathan snorted at the comment. "Please, she's one of five children." He grinned at Brooke's shocked expression. "Come on, you really didn't know?"

"I—she didn't—no one told me—I couldn't have—" Brooke stumbled clumsily over her words.

He laughed at her obvious confusion and stepped in to help her out. "Dean is Lydia's first child with her first husband, John Winchester," Nathan explained. "The two were married for a year before calling it quits, and they shuffled Dean between homes. Lydia soon after met Haley's dad, Jimmy, and along came Quinn, Vivian, Taylor and then Haley."

"Whoa, whoa—Dean? Quinn? Vivian? Where the hell have _I_ been?" she asked incredulously. "I'm supposed to know everything about everyone."

"Looks like you struck out this time, Davis," he said nonchalantly. He moved over to the desk across the room and leaned against it.

"Have you met Quinn and Vivian?"

He nodded his head. "Once or twice when we'd visit her parent's every so often. Her sisters are kind of self-righteous, little Ms. Know-It-Alls."

"_Nothing_ like your precious wife, of course," Brooke joked.

"Don't you start," he pointed a finger at her. "Last thing I need is to get in trouble over something I didn't say in my very own house." He held a fist in the air, playfully threatening to put her in her place.

She held her hands up defensively, but smiled all the same. "_So_ not a funny joke to the battered and beaten woman!" she joked. Brooke laughed at the horrified look on her friend's face and stopped him before he could apologize profusely. "I was kidding, Nate."

Brooke ran a hand through her hair, glad to be rid of the horrid bandage previously wrapped around her head. She decided to steer the conversation back to safe territory. "So, you met her sisters… but judging by your reaction to Detective Dean, I'm assuming this was the first time you two met."

"Yeah," Nathan admitted uneasily. "I hope I didn't come off as too big of an ass. I was just floored over the fact that you were in the hospital to begin with, you know? I was on edge, and here was a guy that I could take my frustration out on."

"Too bad for you he turned out to be your brother-in-law," she finished his thought. She sighed deeply and stretched her arms over her head. "I'm bored. What I _need _is something to read—"

She stopped when Nathan raised his hands to keep her from speaking any further. "I already got you covered." Brooke watched perplexed as he reached behind him and grabbed a stack of magazines, making his way towards her. "Okay, so we've got _Cosmopolitan_, _Glamour, Redbook, Marie Claire, Elle,_ and of course," he swung the cover of the last magazine to face his friend with dramatic flair, "_B. Davis_."

Brooke laughed at his attempts to make her feel at home in their spare bedroom. He placed the magazines on top of her lap and folded his arms over his chest. "Thanks, Nate," she gave him a genuine smile. "It's always good to know what the competition is printing."

"Funny, that's the same thing Peyton told me right before she boarded her flight with Lucas," he said jokingly.

Brooke groaned and rubbed her hands over her face. "Please, don't tell me they're cutting their honeymoon short because of me?"

Nathan chuckled and shook his head. "No, not even close." When she wrinkled her eyebrows in confusion, he explained. "They didn't go through with it. You know how girls are; they say they don't care about the details of the wedding or how it happens until right before the ceremony takes place. My guess is Peyton decided she couldn't get married without the rest of us, and they decided to plan an extravagant wedding."

Brooke laughed and stared at him incredulously. "Peyton? Seriously? Come on, Nathan—do you honestly believe that she'd give Luke the chance to change his mind again?" He seemed to consider the question before joining in her laughter. "Yeah, I didn't think so. Luke was probably the one who got all weepy and wanted his family to be there when they finally got married. Mark my words."

Nathan cocked an eyebrow at the statement. "Are you willing to put your money where your mouth is, Davis?"

Brooke crossed her arms over her chest and threw him a smirk, a mischievously glint twinkling in her eyes. "You bet your ass I am," she repeated his words from earlier. "My best friend and my ex-boyfriend? I think I know what I'm talking about, Scott. How much you willing to lose?"

"Hey, no gambling in this house," Haley reprimanded both of them as she walked in with a cup of hot tea for their houseguest. Her son, James Lucas Scott, followed right behind her.

"Yeah, no gabbing in the house. You heard, mama," Jamie said commandingly. His godmother smiled at the sight of him, a smile that quickly turned into a frown once she caught his reaction to her bruised skin. "Aunt Brooke, mama said someone hurt you really bad," he said after a moment.

Tears pricked Brooke's eyes, but she rapidly blinked them away when her godson made room for himself on her bed. "Yeah, buddy. Someone did some bad things to me, but I'm okay."

Jamie didn't seem convinced. He hesitantly placed his hand in hers and rubbed the back of her hand with his free one. "Does it hurt? It looks like it hurts."

"Jamie—"

Brooke looked towards Nathan and swiftly shook her head before he could interrupt. She quickly composed herself, and with a deep breath, she offered Jamie an explanation. "It hurts a little bit, baby boy. That's why the doctors ordered me to stay in bed for the next couple of days until I feel better."

Jamie nodded his head, somewhat appeased with the answer. "Mama told me that my Uncle Dean is gonna find the bad person who did this to you, Auntie Brooke," he said confidently. He gave her a toothy grin and nodded his head in assurance. "She said if anyone could find him, it'd be Uncle Dean!"

Brooke imitated his smile instantly and patted their joined hands. "I know, sweetheart."

"Well, it's good to know you all have such great faith in me."

They all turned to the doorway and noticed Dean leaning lazily against the doorframe, a grin affixed on his lips. "Dean," Haley exclaimed as she reached for her son. "How did you get in?"

Dean stood straight as he regarded his little sister. "You left the front door open." He walked towards her with a shake of his head. "You'd think that after what happened last night, you'd know better." He paused momentarily and glanced over at Brooke. "No offense."

She smiled in response. "None taken."

"Dean, there's someone I'd like you to meet," Haley addressed her brother. Jamie stood in front of her, and she had her hands planted firmly on his shoulders.

Dean squatted down and looked his nephew up and down. "My God, this can't be James Lucas Scott? Weren't you born yesterday?" he asked in disbelief.

"No, I was born five years ago," the little boy answered earnestly.

The statement caused Dean to laugh whole-heartedly. He offered his hand to the kid and introduced himself. "That you were. I'm Dean. I guess you can call me Uncle Dean."

Jamie stared at the outstretched hand with a puzzled expression. He looked up towards his mother who urged him to greet his uncle. Jamie shrugged and moved Dean's hand aside. He stepped into his uncle's personal space and gave him a hug. "It's nice to meet you, Uncle Dean."

He awkwardly put his arms around the kid, clumsily patting his back in the process. "It's nice to meet you, too bud." When Jamie wouldn't let go of him, he shot a look towards his sister. His eyes expressed his discomfort, and Haley had to stifle the chuckle that threatened to escape her lips.

"All right, Jamie. That's enough," she told her son with a soft giggle. She pulled Jamie back into their earlier stance and rubbed his shoulders out of habit. "What brings you by?" Haley asked her brother.

Dean stood up to his full height and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. It had been his father's most prized possession before he died years ago. It was now Dean's favorite piece of 

clothing. He shrugged and looked pointedly at his nephew. "Well, I wanted to meet the infamous Jamie Scott, of course." He winked at the kid and smiled when Jamie beamed in response. He turned his attention to Brooke, his features softening a bit towards her angelic position on the bed. "I also wanted to check and see how you were holding up."

Brooke cocked an eyebrow at the sentiment and couldn't stop the words before they tumbled from her mouth. "Making house calls, are we Detective? You do that with all your victims?" she asked flirtatiously.

He shook his head at her comment, hiding a grin in the process. "You flatter yourself, Ms. Davis."

"_Brooke_," she corrected.

"_Dean_," he countered.

She smiled brightly at their easy banter. "Touché."

While Nathan and Haley were used to seeing Brooke in action, Jamie's eyes volleyed between the two as he tried to figure out what was going on. "Mama?" he said, tugging on his mother's hand. She looked down on him with a smile on her face. "I think Uncle Dean and Aunt Brooke like each other."

The four adults looked at one another and laughed at the little boy's acute understanding of reality. She picked up her son and walked towards her husband, beginning to usher them out of the room. "It does appear that way, son of mine," she said as she grabbed hold of Nathan's arm. "Let's leave them alone so they can talk."

Jamie sighed in frustration as they walked out the door. "But Mama, I wanna see what happens next!" they heard him complain down the hallway.

"Wow," Brooke said after her fit of laughter subsided.

"That kid knows too much for his own good," Dean said as he moved closer to the bed.

"Is that so?" Brooke asked. She removed the magazines from her lap and placed them on the nightstand by her bed. "So, then you _were_ flirting with me earlier," she assumed.

He uncharacteristically rolled his eyes and took a seat by her bed. He hunched forward, resting his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands together. "I change my mind. The kid knows nothing."

She grinned at the comment and turned her face away from him. _Good job, Davis_, she thought to herself. _Some guy beats the crap out of you, robs your store, and here you are twenty hours later… flirting with your best friend's long lost brother. Will you ever change?_ She sighed discontentedly and brought her eyes to meet his. She tried a friendlier approach this time. "I saw that display earlier… with Jamie. It's kind of refreshing actually."

His face contoured together to form a mask of confusion. "What is?"

"Oh, you know. Big bad detective from New York is scared of innocent little kids," she mocked him playfully. Brooke was getting used to the way he'd shake his head to hide a smirk from her. In fact, she was beginning to like it a lot more than she should.

"No, that's not true," he started. "Kids… kids are great," came the lame response.

"Wow, _kids are great_?" she repeated with a twinkle in her eye. "That's the _best_ you could come up with?" She laughed at the staggered look on his face. Brooke began raising her knees towards her body when the pain shot up from her sides. She grimaced at the sensation and let out a strangled groan in the process.

Dean was at her side in an instant. "Whoa, take it easy there. You all right?" he asked as he eased her legs back into their previous position. He stayed by her bedside, hovering over her until her expression became more relaxed.

"For a second there, I almost forgot," she answered softly. With his help, she placed her body in a more comfortable position. Her eyes remained closed the entire time as she tried to ignore the jolts of pain she'd feel with each tender move. "You're okay," Dean would whisper soothingly every time her face would flinch. She found him to be very calming. Brooke opened her eyes again, a pensive look on her face.

"What?" he asked almost rudely when she wouldn't stop staring at him.

She didn't take offense to his tone. "I don't know. You just… you don't strike me as the type of guy with perfect bedside manners."

Dean shrugged his shoulders and crossed his arms over the other. "And you felt it necessary to point that out because…?"

Brooke gave him a tight-lipped smile. "No reason." They stayed like that for a moment or two; Brooke immobile in bed looking _everywhere_ but towards him and Dean standing over her, looking fairly amused by her show of discomfort. When she managed to look at him again, she asked point blank, "So, any leads on who did this?"

He shook his head sadly and moved to occupy the same chair he'd been in earlier. "Unfortunately, no. It's beginning to look like a random robbery."

Brooke nodded her head at the admission, focusing on her hands before her. "I see," she said without emotion.

"We're still doing all we can to catch this guy, Brooke," he told her reassuringly. He wanted to grab her hand and give it a squeeze, but he didn't feel it would be appropriate. Instead he offered her a promise he wished he wouldn't have to break in the near future. "I will do everything I can to find him."

Brooke stared into his eyes and knew he meant what he said. She'd grown accustom to reading guys all throughout high school. Lucas was her best teacher when she tried detecting whether or not a man's emotions were sincere, or she was being fed a load of bull. She trusted that Dean would find the person who attacked her.

The moment became all too real, and Brooke realized she wanted to kiss him. The realization hit her like a ton of bricks, and she found herself utterly speechless. It had been a while since she felt this way. Sure, she'd dated Owen earlier on in the year, but he'd never had the power to awaken the woman out of her in the sense that Dean had. The feeling scared her tremendously, and she pulled her mind away from the thought of his lips on hers.

She smiled shakily at him and ran a hand through her hair. She took into account the way his eyes narrowed at her sudden detachment and chose to ignore it. Before she could break the ice with some reckless bantering about herself, the silence was broken by the singing vocals of Jesse McCartney.

"God—what is that _God awful_ sound?" Dean asked in disgust as his eyes wandered around the room, searching for the source of his discomfort.

Brooke laughed at the sour expression on his face and retrieved her cell phone from the nightstand. "It's my cell phone, you jerk," she said playfully.

Dean's face contorted some more as the song continued to play. "Well, pick it up!" he said quickly. "That's gotta be the worst ringtone ever created on earth," he commented. "Serious," he said in all earnest.

Brooke chose not to take offense and refrained from singing along with her chirping phone. Instead, she silenced the room—a "Thank God!" quickly followed from Dean—by picking up the phone. "Brooke Davis," she said, rolling her eyes at the Detective across from her.

"Brooke! How are you feeling?" Luke asked as he ushered Peyton into the taxi before climbing in after her.

"Luke," she breathed into the phone. She closed her eyes and brought a hand to her head. "Did you guys just land?"

"Yeah, we're in a taxi heading over to Nathan's," he replied. "But you didn't answer my question. How are you doing?"

She shrugged even when she knew he couldn't physically see her do it. "I'm better. You guys didn't have to cut your vacation short because of me."

"Brooke, are you kidding me?" she heard Peyton yell into the phone. Somewhere in between getting into the taxi and this moment, Brooke figured Luke put her on speaker phone so they wouldn't be fighting over the phone. "Of course we had to come back! You're my _best friend_," she stated the words empathetically. "I should've been there with you—I should've been by your side, Brooke."

She quirked an eyebrow at her friend's words. "What—like a repeat of prom night with your so-called, psycho brother, Derek?" She mouthed the words _long story_ when Dean looked at her questioningly. "I think I managed just fine, P. Sawyer."

"Well, regardless, we're on our way to Nate's," Luke jumped back into the conversation.

Brooke shook her head and reinforced the action when she spoke. "No, you guys have had a pretty eventful night yourselves. Nathan and Haley are here to tend to my every need, which _rocks _by the way. You guys go home, get some rest, and I'll see you in the morning." Her eyes flicked towards Dean, and her voice grew softer. "I'm in good hands."


	4. Breaking furniture

_Hey everyone! First off, I wanted to thank you all for the kind responses for the story. I'm glad you're enjoying this story cos I really like writing it. Just one small thing I forgot to say in the beginning of the story: I don't like Dan, nor do I want to write for him. So, let's just say… Dan died, and no one cared. Good? Great! :) I hope you all enjoy the next chapter._

The following morning, Haley prepared a feast fit for a King and his court. The breakfast table was lined with an assortment of treats. There were pancakes, bacon, sausage, eggs, croissants, toast and other store purchased pastries for the guests to enjoy. The table was set for seven, and the young mother double-checked to make sure everyone had the appropriate set of utensils. Once Haley was sure everything was in place, she clapped her hands together and waited for their guests to arrive.

As if on cue, the doorbell rang and she rushed to answer it. "Dean," she greeted her brother warmly before taking him in her arms. "You may be a pain in the ass big brother, but God it's so good to see you." She pulled out of his embrace and cradled his face in her hands. "I missed you so much."

Dean covered one of her hands with his own before releasing her from his grip. He walked ahead of her into the house and sniffed the air in satisfaction. "Haley James, you always were the talented one," he said in appreciation. He rubbed his stomach and smiled at his baby sister. "And I missed you, too."

She smiled at the admission and folded her arms over her chest. She knew Dean wasn't big on emotion, so when he bestowed her with any sort of affection, she made sure to cherish the moment. "So, we haven't had time to talk about why you're back in Tree Hill," she started off hesitantly.

As she'd suspected, the light left his eyes as he shifted his gaze around the room smoothly. He stuffed his hands into his pockets, a move he'd always made when his guard was up. "I wanted to come home," he said promptly, as if he'd rehearsed this conversation many times before.

"Home? Since when was Tree Hill your home?" she asked perplexed. "From what I remember, mom and John agreed you'd stay with us for the summer and the important holidays. I'd think Charlotte would be your home."

Dean shook his head sadly, refraining from looking at his kid sister. With a rough voice, he said, "Charlotte was never my home. Home was always with the family." It took a lot of strength, but he met Haley's gaze head-on. "My dad was my family, and so were you."

Her heart broke a little at her brother's declaration. Wordlessly, she closed the distance between them and took him in her arms once more. She tightened their embrace when Dean moved to separate from her sibling comfort. "I'm always your family. Remember?"

Dean grinned briefly at the reminder. He pulled away from her and shook his head, the smirk refusing to leave his lips. "I really did miss you, Haley. I know I suck at keeping in touch, and I've never been the affectionate one in the family, but… I did miss you."

The smile on her face brightened as she socked her brother in the arm. "Ow! What was _that_ for? I do my one good deed for the year, and you turn around and hit me? What the _hell_?"

"Oh, that was one big punch for all the milestones you've missed in my life, Brother D. You know, like… 

my _wedding_, my graduation, the birth of my _son_—that sort of thing."

He rubbed the spot she'd hit and scowled at her, looking very much like a wounded six year-old kid. "Well, don't sweat it sis—I'll make sure that I'm around when you hit menopause."

Dean was prepared for the swat she tried landing on the same arm and managed to maneuver his body so he was just out of reach. "Ass," she chided while shaking her head.

"Bitch," came the easy retort.

Haley stuck out her tongue. Dean playfully pushed her head away. Pretty soon, the two were laughing at their childish interaction. That was when Nathan walked into the room. "What's so funny?" Nathan asked as he walked towards the refrigerator.

"Eh, sibling love," Haley replied easily. "You wouldn't know anything about it," she poked fun at him.

"Hey, I resent that," Nathan responded. He poured himself a glass of orange juice and motioned to his brother-in-law, wordlessly asking him if he'd like a cup.

Dean shook his head and walked over to the counter. "What's the deal—are you an only child or something?"

"Actually, he isn't," Haley answered for her husband. Her eyes brightened as the realization hit her. "Dean, you wouldn't believe who his brother—"

Before she could drop the bomb, the doorbell interrupted them once more. Haley took a quick peek out the window, her smile growing at the sight of her friends on the doorstep. She quickly turned to her brother and failed miserably in hiding her excitement. "Why don't you get that?"

Dean frowned at her but made his way to the front of the house regardless. "Rude, much?" he asked bluntly, his back towards his baby sister. She didn't have time to respond because he was reaching for the handle to allow the guests into the house. "_Ho_ly shit, look what the cat dragged in," Dean easily drawled with a grin on his face.

"Dean?" For a moment, Lucas wasn't sure if he was looking at a ghost or the real thing. Once Dean's smug smile checked into place, the younger man matched the expression and shook hands with his old friend, pulling him into a brotherly hug. "Man, is it good to see _you_," he exclaimed sincerely. "How long has it been?"

Dean pulled apart from Luke's hold and shook his head once more. "Too long," he replied. The two had played ball together every summer he was in town. He didn't know it, but had it not been for Dean, Luke would never have loved basketball as much as he did. Dean taught him everything he knew. He turned his attention to the curiously silent blonde girl beside him and let out a low whistle. "I _approve_," he said proudly, giving Peyton the once over.

"Ha ha," Luke said sarcastically as he pulled Peyton to his side. "Dean Winchester, this is my fiancé, Peyton Sawyer. Peyton, this is Haley's brother."

"Half-brother!" Haley screamed from the kitchen.

"The better half," Dean corrected as he shook the woman's hand.

Peyton looked every bit as much as Nathan and Brooke did yesterday in the hospital. "Half brother?" she asked surprised. "I didn't know she had a brother. I thought she only had sisters."

"Hey, at least you did better than Brooke," Nathan said coming into the living room to welcome everyone. "She thought it was just Haley and Taylor."

The small group smiled at the comment. After greeting Nathan, Peyton pulled apart from their hug and looked at her ex-boyfriend. "Speaking of Brooke, how's she doing?"

"Last time I checked, she was up. Haley helped her get ready this morning, and from what I know, she's just finishing up," Nate answered.

Peyton nodded her head and looked towards her fiancé. "I'm gonna go up and see her," she told him before making her way to the staircase. She easily found the spare room her best friend was staying in and made her way towards the door. Brooke had the speakers on a little too loud, and she hoped the brunette hadn't woken her godson up.

She quietly opened the door and smiled at the sight that greeted her. Brooke sat on the bed facing the opposite direction from the door as Jamie stood behind her, combing her damp hair carefully. The two didn't hear her as she stepped into the room and leaned against the doorframe. Instead, they carried on with their conversation as Leona Lewis played in the background.

"Don't worry, Aunt Brooke. I'll go tell my dad you need help getting down the stairs," he reassured his godmother, brushing from the nape of her neck to the tips. The little boy walked into her room that morning, watching her struggle to do the simple task. He'd offered his help, and she'd embarrassingly accepted.

"No, Jamie, that's okay. I just have a hard time lifting my arms up, that's all," Brooke told him. Bruised ribs had a way of doing that to you, apparently. She shook the thought from her mind instantly, not wanting the little boy to worry about her assault anymore than he already had. She took a breath and prepared herself for the difficult conversation she'd been putting off since stepping foot into this house. "So, you must've been scared when your parents told you about my accident."

The comb paused right before it reached the ends of her tips. Brooke knew her godson was at a loss for words, so she turned around to face him and pulled him on top of the bed with her. He sat before her but his eyes remained glued to the brush he held in between his tiny hands. "I guess I don't understand."

Brooke nodded her head sadly and began to stroke his back with an open palm. She ducked her head down to catch his gaze and was saddened when he averted his eyes. "I know. I don't really understand it either, baby boy. It's very hard to believe that there are people in this world who like hurting other people, Jamie. But unfortunately, they _do_ exist," she explained to him.

He raised his head and finally looked at her. "Can what happened to you also happen to me? Or my mom and dad?"

Her heart jumped in her throat as the question caught her off guard. She didn't know how to explain the dangers of the real world to a kid who'd just turned five and was shielded from the violence outside of his home. Thankfully, she didn't have to. She looked up as Peyton made her way into the room, taking a seat behind Jamie as she ruffled his hair.

"Jamie, what happened to Brooke shouldn't have happened at all. But when someone causes harm to other people, the cops and police do all that they can to make sure that they catch these bad guys so that they can't hurt anyone else. Do you understand that?"

Jamie nodded his head, the expression on his face softening as he thought Peyton's answer over. He turned away from Peyton and directed his next question at his godmother. "So the police are going to lock up the bad guy that did this to you?"

Brooke tried to answer his question but found that she couldn't. The lump in her throat was still too strong for the words to come out. Instead, she nodded her head and gave her godson a closed-lip smile, running a hand from the top of his head to the nape of his neck.

"Then, that means Uncle Dean's gonna save you!" he exclaimed happily. A confused yet amused look settled onto Peyton's face when she brought her attention to her best friend. She noticed the slight brush that began at Brooke's neck and took the notion into account.

"What?" Brooke sputtered surprised. She let out a shaky laugh and sat straighter, pulling her body away from the small child.

"Uncle _Dean," _he stressed the name slowly, as if he were talking to a baby. "He's a policeman, isn't he?" Brooke nodded while Peyton placed her hand over her mouth to hide the smile that appeared out of nowhere. "Then he's gonna save you!" he repeated again. "He's gonna find the bad guy that hurt you and put him in jail. The bad guy won't ever hurt you again."

Tears sprang to Brooke's eyes, and she groaned at their presence. She hadn't been able to get through a solid five hours without these damn tears invading her vision. When she didn't trust herself to speak, Peyton picked up the conversation by removing the boy from the bed. "You're right, little man. Uncle Dean will come through for your Aunt Brooke. I'm sure of it," she said with a smirk, looking pointedly at her best friend. She in turn rolled her eyes.

"Jamie, why don't you head downstairs? Your mom made breakfast, and both your Uncle's are here to see you!" she exclaimed, slapping the boy on the butt as he ran towards the door. Once she knew he was out of earshot, she looked back at Brooke and frowned at her bruises. "I could kill the asshole that did this to you," she whispered fiercely before pulling Brooke into a tender hug. "Where does it hurt?"

Brooke pulled away and wiped at the tears that had yet to fall. "Everywhere," she answered honestly. There was no point lying to the girl who knew her better than she knew herself. "Cut on the head, bruised ribs and purple and blue marks all over the body."

"Oh, Brooke," Peyton replied, taking her hand between hers. "I'm so sorry. I should've been here for you—"

"Stop it," Brooke cut in reassuringly. "We've already been through this, P. Sawyer. There was nothing you could do to prevent this. Nothing, okay? It happened, it's done… I just want to get through this, and get on with my life."

"I know, I'm sorry—"

"And I can't get on with it if everyone keeps babying me," she gave her friend a pointed look. "I'm a big girl, Peyton. I can take care of myself. I've been doing it since freshman year of high school."

The blonde woman frowned and shook her head, stopping herself from offering another pointless apology. "All right, we'll move forward."

"Thank you."

"Forward as in, holy crap I didn't know Haley had a hot older brother!" Peyton said with wide eyes and a matching smile. "Did you see the guy?"

Brooke rolled her eyes but couldn't keep the grin that spread across her face. "He's actually the cop that's handling my case. Go figure," she said with a shrug.

"Brooke, the guy is _hot_. So hot he should make your teeth sweat. Don't tell me you haven't noticed?"

The woman in question averted her eyes and fidgeted with the necklace that hung low to her chest. "He's Haley's brother, Peyton."

"Yeah, and Lucas is Nathan's brother. What's your point?" Realization dawned upon the blonde friend as her eyes widened once more. "Oh my God—I think someone's crushing on Detective Dean," she teased.

Brooke managed to look caught off guard, but deep down, she knew it would be a matter of time before someone called her on her feelings for the new guy in town. Problem is, she wasn't planning on doing anything with those feelings. Was she attracted to Dean Winchester? Sure—she'd be dead not to. But she'd tried her hand so many times with love only to be disappointed in the long run. Lucas had left her for Peyton. Her relationship with Nick Chavez had fallen apart not only because he was her teacher but because he didn't know how to keep his pants zipped. Chase left when _Clothes over Bros_ began to get bigger than their relationship. And Owen didn't want to date a girl with a baby—even if Brooke had to give the baby back after a month.

So after their night of easy banter and stolen glances, Brooke went to sleep having made the decision that she would stay away from Dean Winchester. She didn't need that kind of trouble, no matter _how_ good it looked in a pair of jeans.

* * *

A few moments later, Peyton helped Brooke down the stairs and into the living room where everyone was waiting for the two of them. "I got her," Luke said to his fiancé, taking a firm grip on Brooke's opposite arm. Judging by the slight scowl on her face, he knew she didn't need nor want anyone's help. Because of that, he chose not to ask her how she was feeling. "I hope you're hungry," he said instead, "cos Haley has outdone herself this morning with breakfast."

"Is that so?" she asked half-heartedly, offering the mother a small smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"What?" she asked bewildered as the group made their way to the dining table. "It's a special occasion! Brooke's okay, my brother is home, and you two are _engaged_," she pronounced, looking towards the happy couple.

"What about us?" Nathan asked, clearly insulted as he brought his son to his side. "We're not special enough to get the royal treatment every morning?"

The group laughed and Luke whistled as he helped Brooke into her chair, taking note of the fact that Dean helped him on the opposite side. He moved forward with telling Haley what he meant to say before being distracted. "You walked right into that one, Hales."

"Don't be silly," Haley began. "Every day with my favorite boys is a special occasion."

"Good save, mama," Jamie nodded his head in approval. He seated himself directly in front of the chocolate muffins, his eyes twinkling as he waited for everyone to be seated.

"And what are we?" Dean asked, his eyes darting towards Luke. "Chopped liver?"

Haley waited a beat before nodding her head precisely. "Yeah, pretty much."

Luke groaned as he took a seat between his nephew and Peyton. "Shot through the heart."

"All right, enough talking. Let's start _eating_," Peyton addressed every person at the table. "Cos I _know_ I'm not the only one who's starving."

Everyone nodded their heads and began digging into the food. There were lots of grunts of appreciation and moans of satisfaction as they devoured the feast Haley prepared. "Hey, so we never got to hear about the two of you getting back together," Nathan said, directing his question to his brother.

"Or better yet, how the two of you getting back together automatically turned into an engagement," Haley added after her husband.

The two stared at one another, not knowing what to say or who should be the one to talk. "Why don't you tell them all about it, Shakespeare?" Peyton told her fiancé, putting him on the spot.

Luke looked over towards Haley and explained the events of the night before last. "To make a long story short, I got some good advice from a great friend who told me that I needed to stop hiding my heart and to go after who it was that I wanted." He purposefully left out the three choices his best friend urged him to choose from and pressed on. "Obviously, I took her advice seriously cos the next thing I knew, I was at the airport with two tickets to Vegas in one hand and my cell phone in the other, asking Peyton if she wanted to get married that night."

"Dude, that's gotta be the lamest proposal I've ever heard," Dean said with a serious face, causing the table to erupt with laughter.

"That's what I said!" Peyton agreed, grinning like a fool in love towards Luke. She turned to Brooke who was sitting to her right, her smile faltering when she noticed her best friend was more quiet than usual. She stopped herself from asking if everything was okay, remembering her promise from earlier to stop treating Brooke like a child.

"Whatever, man. At least I _have_ a fiancé," Luke retorted back jokingly to his long time friend.

"Hah," the older man scoffed. "Tie me down with a ball and chain? No thanks. I'd rather listen to Jesse McCartney for the rest of my life, or whatever it is his name is." He darted a glance at Brooke, his timing impeccable as she raised her head to meet his stare. She mockingly glared at him, the smirk on her face ruining the illusion that she was insulted. He grinned back.

"So, D—" Luke caught Dean's attention once more. "Where are you staying?"

Dean made a show of sighing and looking every bit the role of a forlorn man. "For now, I'm staying at the old motel down by the Rivercourt until I find an apartment."

"The old Roosevelt Motel?" Nathan asked. "Isn't that place a little…"

"Run down?" Haley finished his question. "Dean, you can't stay at a place like that."

"Why not? It's only temporary until I find a place of my own."

"Because!" his sister explained. "The Roosevelt can barely manage to hold itself up. You couldn't possibly live in that rat infested hell hole."

"Mama said a bad word," Jamie mumbled in between bites from his chocolate muffin.

"Sorry, baby," she apologized, but her eyes remained locked on her brother. "I'm still right."

"Well, what do you suggest?" he asked her as he speared a hunk of scrambled egg onto his fork. "I move in here with you and your family?" He shook his head and lifted the fork to his mouth. "I don't think so."

She seemed truly insulted by his refusal to stay with them, even though she hadn't offered him a room. "And why _not_? What's so bad about staying here temporarily?"

"Oh come on, Hales. You've got a family of your own to take care of. I'm not gonna be that brother that leeches off of his kid sister. No thanks," he said around the eggs in his mouth. He swallowed the food and continued. "Besides, I could barely stand living with you when we were younger. I doubt it'd be any better now that we're adults," he winked at his own joke.

"Fine. Whatever," she gave up easily. "You can stay with Luke."

"What?" Luke asked as he held a piece of toast mid-air.

Dean laughed at the man's expression. "Nice one," he said to his sister. "You might want to run that 

idea by your best friend before you start offering his house for the homeless."

Haley shook her head and stifled a laugh. "_You_ be quiet," she said. She looked at Luke and pleaded with her eyes. "He can stay with you, can't he?"

"I..uh…"

"Exactly," Dean pointed out. He smirked at Haley and explained the reasons why moving in with Luke wouldn't be a good idea. "The guy just got engaged, and he's moving the bride to be into his place. I'm sure they're both going to be all over the place—" he paused when Jamie looked up at him. "…They're, uh, gonna be practicing the married life," he finished with a nod of his head, hoping the adults would understand him. Luke let out a laugh while Peyton blushed at the comment.

Brooke sharply turned her head towards her best friend, shocked at the news that her roommate was leaving her. Peyton brought her attention to Brooke and opened her mouth to speak. However, the explanation failed to come out.

Jamie sat still with a confused expression settled on his face. "How do you practice being married, Uncle Dean?"

"Yeah, how _do_ you practice the married life, Uncle Dean?" Brooke spoke up for the first time, averting her gaze from one friend to the next. An amused look momentarily replaced the somberness on her face.

"Oh, you know… simple things," he began, a sparkle of mischief lighting his eyes. "Settling in, _rearranging _furniture, replacing the furniture they _break_… that kind of stuff."

The blush deepened on Peyton's face as Luke repeatedly shook his head from side to side, his grin widening with each turn. Nathan hid a laugh behind his hand while Haley mouthed the words, _you're sick_, to her brother. Brooke put her head down, hiding a smirk that would surely confuse her godson.

"But why would they break the furniture?" Jamie asked earnestly.

Dean couldn't help himself and laughed this time. He stared at his nephew from across the table. He was beginning to warm up to the boy. "_That_, I'm gonna have to explain to you when you're a little older."

Jamie still looked confused but shrugged it off when Brooke placed another muffin on his plate. She raised her shoulders innocently when Haley glared at her from across the table. She'd given him the chocolate treat in hopes of silencing his twenty-one questions. Unfortunately for her, it didn't work.

"So if Uncle Dean can't live here, and Uncle Luke and Aunt Peyton are moving furniture around, then why can't he stay with you?" he asked innocently, staring up into Brooke's surprised eyes.

"What?" she asked momentarily dazed. To say she was caught off guard would be the understatement of a lifetime.

Nathan couldn't help but chuckle. When Haley shot him a look, he shrugged and taunted her. "He's just like his mother."

"Well, it's not a _bad_ idea," Haley said, getting used to the thought in her head. "In fact, that would solve all our problems."

"_Problems_?" Brooke looked around, feeling ambushed. "What problems?"

"Dean could have a place to stay while he looks for an apartment, and you can have someone with you at the house," she explained. "With Peyton moving out, your home won't be so lonely," she continued on. "It's perfect!"

Brooke remained silent, a cloud of unease falling over her as they all turned to face her, waiting for an answer. In the end, it was Dean who would come to her rescue. "Absolutely not," he said bluntly. All eyes snapped back to look at the man, including Brooke.

"Why _not?"_ Haley questioned, clearly exasperated at this point.

"I think it's too soon for us to be moving in together, don't you agree sweetheart?" he directed his question to Brooke. He winked at the shocked expression on her face, attempting to calm her nerves with the weight of his words. "I mean, come on. At least let us get in a first date or two before we start playing house."

Brooke remained speechless while the rest of the guests paid them no mind, chuckling at Dean's odd sense of humor. Once she was able to catch his gaze once more, she mouthed a small _thank you_ to him, a small grin appearing once he nodded his head at her. She turned her attention to the boy sitting beside her and shook her head in wonder. The kid was right. _Uncle Dean's gonna save you!_

Jamie licked the chocolate off his fingertips and gave Brooke a toothy smile. "Well, maybe Uncle Dean can move in later," he said loudly, attracting everyone's attention once more.

"What are you talking about, buddy?" Nathan asked from the opposite end of the table.

"Uncle Dean and Aunt Brooke," he spoke to his father condescendingly, as if he were speaking to a child. He turned to his uncle and smiled brightly. "After you stop dating, you can get engaged, move in together and start breaking furniture!"

* * *

"Hi Jane," Haley said into the phone. She'd stepped out on the front porch to take a call and was surprised when she found Brooke sitting by herself. "What?" she asked into the phone, momentarily forgetting her surroundings. "Oh, I completely forgot. When is the last day to sign him up? Tomorrow? I have class… but I'm sure my husband can take him. It'll be fine. Yeah, thanks for reminding me, Jane. You're a lifesaver." She waited a beat and chuckled into the line. "Yeah, Jamie's really excited, too. Listen, I have company over, but I'll make sure Nathan brings him tomorrow. Thanks again! Okay, talk to you later. Bye."

"What was that about?" Brooke asked distractedly.

Haley shook her head and took a seat in the rocking chair beside her. "Jane Andrews. Her son is in Jamie's class, and she told me about an afterschool basketball program she was enrolling her boy in. Jamie asked if he could go, too, and Nate thought it would be a good idea. She was just calling to remind me that the last day to sign him up is tomorrow."

"That was nice of her," Brooke commented.

"Why don't you tell me what's really on your mind, Davis?" Haley asked.

She threw the girl a sickeningly sweet smile and said, "Oh, I don't know—how bout, _I'm going to kill your son_?"

Haley placed a hand over her chest and laughed whole-heartedly. The action made her lean forward in the wooden chair, and she took the opportunity to take a good look at her friend. Brooke sat in the rocking chair to her right and let her body sway with the force of the wind. Though she was joking, a slight frown remained glued to her face. "I never knew my son would be playing matchmaker for my brother… much less you."

She didn't hesitate to glare at her, which caused Haley to erupt in another fit of giggles. "I'm sorry," she apologized when her laughter began to dwindle. "He's just so cute, I can't help it."

Loud cheers emerged from behind the house, interrupting their conversation. They could hear congratulatory cheers directed towards Jamie and Nathan while Dean and Luke shrugged off the point made against them. Peyton was also at the back of the house, cheering the men on as if she was back in high school.

"What's goin' on in that head of yours, Tigger?"

Brooke brought her eyes to her friend and gave her first genuine smile of the morning. "You haven't called me that in a long time."

Haley shrugged her shoulders and rested her head against the back of her seat. "It happens when you go so long without seeing one another."

"Yeah," Brooke agreed silently. She broke contact with her and stared out into the street. She knew Haley only wanted to help, but how could you tell one of your best friend's that you'd never felt so alone in your life? Nathan had tried reassuring her that this wasn't the case, but Brooke couldn't wrap her head around his words. She was _alone_ in every sense that mattered. Had it not been for the support of her best friends, who knew where or who she'd be at this very moment? "I've just got a lot of things on my mind, Tutor Mom."

Haley nodded her head. "Anything you want to share?" When Brooke shook her head no, she sighed and sat up. "You know we're all here for you, right? You're not alone in this."

Brooke closed her eyes at the ten-thousandth reminder of how everyone would be there for her. To be honest, she was sick of it. If one more person told her that she could cry on their shoulder or lean on them for support, she was going to scream. But she didn't say that to her best friend. Instead, she smiled and said, "I know."

More cheers emerged from the back of the house, and Brooke could tell Haley really wanted to be back there to root for the men in her life. "Go," she said softly. She brought her attention to Haley and repeated herself once more. "Go on. I'll be fine."

"Brooke—"

"I'd really like to be alone, Hales. Really," she reinforced her statement with a nod of her head. "Go."

Haley frowned but did as she was told. She rose from her seat and patted her friend on the shoulder. "Come join us when you're ready," she said before leaving.

_Finally_, she thought to herself. She finally had a moment of peace and quiet. There was no one getting on her case about her emotions or badgering her to take it _easy_. At first, the idea of staying with Nathan and Haley seemed like such a good one. She'd be able to rest and recuperate _outside_ of the hospital and have her friends on hand to assist her in her needs. Had she known that it meant having four inquisitive friends watching her every move, hovering over her _just to talk_, she would've gladly stayed in the hospital—no matter how much she hated the place.

Brooke was already struggling in accepting the fact that she was the third/fifth wheel in their group. What she didn't anticipate was how hard everyone would try convincing her otherwise. If she was honest with herself, she'd admit that Haley's comment earlier had hit a little too close to home. Though she knew her friend's intentions weren't spiteful in the least, Brooke couldn't help but feel a little resentment towards the young mother.

"_Dean could have a place to stay while he looks for an apartment, and you can have someone with you at the house," she explained. "With Peyton moving out, your home won't be so lonely."_

She was amazed no one had felt her flinch at Haley's declaration of how _perfect_ everyone's lives would be if Dean had moved in with her. It would solve _everyone's _problem. Did she mean that everyone was worried about the fact that Brooke couldn't hold down a normal, stable relationship? Did her friends see her as a successful business woman who couldn't hold down a man? And why was her being alone a problem?

"Careful there, you might hurt yourself with all that thinking."

Brooke blinked and found herself face to face with Dean. She must've been thinking too hard cos she hadn't heard him approach her, nor take the seat that Haley just vacated. "Dean," she uttered.

He'd be lying if he said he didn't like the way his name rolled off her tongue. He shook the thought away and began to rock the chair. "Must've been lost in your thoughts."

"How long have you been here?"

He shrugged as his eyes found a tall oak tree to focus on. "Couple of minutes. I'd ask you if you want to talk about it, but seeing as everyone's already asked you that question two times over, I figure I'd better keep my mouth shut."

She was astonished he'd been paying attention. She blinked once more and woke herself out of her thoughts. Brooke gave the man her full attention as she sat straighter in her rocking chair. "Listen, about earlier—"

"Don't," he effectively cut her off. "I'm not too keen on displays of gratitude," he lightly brushed her off. "You looked cornered, and I just came in to save you in time." He swung his gaze over to her and raised his eyebrows. "It's my job to do that, you know."

His gaze was so intent, it made her blush and turn away instantly. "I know, but still… thank you for doing it anyway. You didn't have to, and I appreciate it." He nodded his head, content with sitting beside her and enjoying the quiet Sunday afternoon.

She didn't know what possessed her to say what she said next. "I appreciate it so much that… I'm considering Jamie's idea."

He quirked his eyebrows together in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"Well," she started. "You need a place to live, and I need someone to live with. So why not?"

Dean raised his eyebrows in shock. Clearly, he wasn't expecting the offer to be laid on the table.

They were so caught up in their own conversation that they missed Luke coming around from the back of the house. He stopped dead in his tracks when he heard Brooke's proposal to the man who taught him to play ball. Clearly, _he_ wasn't expecting the offer to be laid on the table, either.


	5. The Many Faces of Brooke Davis

Dean slowly unpacked what little clothes he'd brought to Tree Hill, neatly placing the garments on top of his new bed. His new, _temporary_ bed. He surveyed his surroundings and let out a low whistle of appreciation. Brooke sure knew how to pick out a house and decorate it.

A majority of Peyton's belongings were stacked in boxes by the door, relieving the room of the few feminine touches it carried. The walls were painted as blue as the ocean with the trimmings kept white. It housed a king size bed (_niiice_), a few black wood dressers and an assortmen of entertainment systems. The HD flat screen television set hung on the opposite wall from the bed. A stereo system sat just to the right of his open windows, baring a breathtaking view of the river outside. Though he hated to admit it, Dean could most definitely get used to a living in a place like this. Had Brooke not been so adamant that he stay with her, he probably wouldn't he here to begin with.

"_You can't be serious."_

_Brooke raised her eyebrows and had the audacity to laugh at his reaction. "Why not? It makes sense. You need a place to stay, and I have a spare room. I actually have plenty of spare rooms, but that's beside the point," she waved the thought away and looked at him through narrowed eyes. "What's the big deal?"_

"_I don't know—how bout the fact that we barely know each other? You're willing to house some stranger you met two days ago? Do you think that's such a good idea?"_

"_Oh, please," she said immediately. "You're not a _complete_ and total stranger here. You're Haley's brother. You're the man who's overseeing my case. My _hero,_ remember?" she grinned, batting her eyelashes like a damsel in distress._

_He pursed his lips together and sent her a fierce look. "Trust me; I'm no one's hero."_

_Brooke's cocked brow refused to die down as she studied him closely. "Okay," she said after a while. "Maybe you're not a hero, but you sure are pretty damn close to the real thing." She waved off his response with the back of her hand and continued talking, never missing a beat. "Look, I get that we hardly know each other, but in the short time we've been together, you've constantly had my back. So let me return the favor."_

"_There was no favor involved to begin with," he explained._

"_God, you are such a stubborn ass, you know that?" she asked in a breath, the irritation seeping through her lips._

"_You're just _now_ realizing that?" Dean taunted her._

_Brooke's eyes narrowed into thin slits as she glared at him. "Keep it up, and I just might retract that offer."_

"_Take it back, see if I care," he replied easily. _

_She groaned loudly and snapped. "Would you just say you're gonna move in already, and quit being such a baby?"_

_He glared at her and stood from the chair. "Fine!" he replied back defiantly. "But you're not allowed to fall in love with me," he told her mockingly, as if he were a child._

_The anger in her eyes toned down a notch but she stood up as he tried to walk past her. "__**Soooo**__ not a problem!"_

_The next few minutes consisted of the other trying to outrun the other, in hopes of being the first one to walk away._

"You all right in here?"

He turned to find Brooke leaning against his doorframe, slightly hovering inside his room as if it were forbidden territory.

He nodded his head and looked at her. "You can come in, you know. I don't bite." He turned away from her just to look back again. "Unless you want me to."

Brooke rolled her eyes and walked into the room. She made sure that each step held the confidence she seemed to lack at the moment. She looked to the side and found Peyton's boxes against the wall. "She'll come by later with Luke to get those," she motioned to the cartons. "They're just moving some furniture around."

He let out a loud laugh and swung his gaze to her instantly. "Did I hear you correctly?"

She looked at him, puzzled by his laughter until the realization of her words hit her like a ton of bricks. Brooke scrunched up her face in disgust and moved closer to whack him softly with her hand. "I didn't mean it like that, you pervert," she scolded him, though a smile remained on her face. "Do you ever think about anything besides sex?"

Dean looked up to the ceiling and took a serious moment to think the question over. Brooke smacked him once again, and he laughed at her frustration. "_What_?" he asked innocently. "I was thinking it over!"

"Pig," she murmured underneath her breath. She offered him a smirk when the smile vanished from his lips. "So," she stretched her arms wide apart and turned her body to showcase the room. "What do you think?"

Dean pulled out his last pair of jeans from his suitcase and placed it on the bed. He put his hands on his hips and bobbed his head from side to side. "It's decent."

Brooke resisted the urge to hit him again and mimicked his stance instead. He _did_ say he wasn't big on gratitude, so why she was surprised by his reaction was a wonder. "I'm glad you think so."

Her simple response wasn't exactly what he'd been expecting. Dean thought she would yell and scream like a banshee, telling him that he could at least be more thankful that he had a roof over his head—rent free, as she insisted over and over. It took an entire day to convince her to let him at least pay for groceries. He groaned inwardly as he remembered that _long_ day.

Dean ran a hand through his hair, and began to express his appreciation as quickly as possible. "Look, you didn't have to help me out here, but you did. So… thanks." The wide-eyed expression on her face emitted laughter amidst his painful display of gratefulness. "Don't look too surprised. I _am_ capable of being polite every once and a while."

"Well, you should let that side show more often, Detective Dean," she grinned stupidly.

He rolled his eyes at his newly appointed nickname. "Come on—not _that_ shit again."

Brooke giggled at his reaction and made herself comfortable on his bed. "What's the matter, Detective Dean? Did I say something wrong?"

He threw a folded t-shirt at her and tampered down the smile that threatened to appear at the happiness that sparkled through her eyes. "You're worse than Haley."

"You're just realizing that?" she repeated his words from a couple of days ago. To be honest, Brooke had no idea what possessed her to invite the man to stay with her. Dean was right; aside from the fact that he was Haley's brother and a cop, she knew absolutely nothing about him. Strangely, she'd never felt more safe and comfortable while in the presence of an acquaintance.

"So, now that you're going to be staying here temporarily, I figure it's time we set up some house rules," Brooke declared, bracing her weight on her right arm as she sat up on his bed.

He nodded his head in a bored manner. "This should be fun."

"Shut up," she countered just as blandly. "First off, seeing as you are a guest in this house, you will have full and complete access to every room in the house 'cept for mine."

"Sure," he replied casually.

A little _too_ casual, causing her eyes to narrow at the intent of his statement.

"Which brings me to my next point," she began, rising from his bed. She managed to train the muscles in her face to keep the grimaces naked to the human eye. She smoothed imaginary wrinkles out of her cotton dress and stood toe to toe with him, despite the fact he was a good foot taller than her.

"Obviously, there's this…."

"Sexual attraction between us?" he finished her sentence unabashedly.

She sputtered over her own words, a slight blush forming on her normally creamy complexion. "I hate when you do that," she muttered.

"What?" Dean asked as he slowly approached her, a lion stalking his prey. "Make you so hot for me that it literally renders you speechless?" He grinned at the disgusted look on her face and moved away before she could hit him again. "I'm _kidding_, Brooke."

"Yeah, well—you're not funny," she informed him.

"I'll remember that the next time you decide to call me Detective Dean," he told her, winking at her all at the same time.

Brooke huffed in annoyance and threw out her hand in exasperation. "Can we move on?" He swept the air before him with one hand, signaling that the floor was hers to speak. "As I was saying, obviously there's this… _attraction_ between the two of us—"

"There is?" he asked seeming truly perplexed by the declaration.

And her eyes widened to the size of headlights. Her eyes soon focused on the view from his window as she tried to get a grip on the change of events.

Had she been imagining the entire thing? Maybe Dean wasn't interested in her the same way she was she had thought. _Great, Davis. What a way to make your new houseguest feel welcome. Accuse him of liking you just because you think you could possibly have feelings for him. Great._

"And here I thought we were just having some fun," he said to break the silence. There was a slight hitch to his voice that brought Brooke back to reality, her eyes finding his in a heartbeat. She could _throttle_ him.

Dean stood there silently, biting his bottom lip to keep from laughing at her. Acting on instinct, she picked up the first object she could find—his empty suitcase—and lunged forward with it, attempting to bring the large piece of luggage over her head to bash him with. His large hands quickly found Brooke's delicate wrists as he held them in place, keeping the bag from connecting with his face. "Will you put that down?" he scolded. "You could hurt yourself," he said, this time his voice a little more stern.

Unfortunately for Brooke, the warning had come too late.

Her hands released the bulky bag as she placed a hand over the right side of her ribs. The briefcase toppled over the both of them, catching him on the shoulder as it bounced onto her knee. The two didn't have time to react as they focused on Brooke's bruised ribs. "Where does it hurt?" he asked hurriedly, crouching down below her to place a soft hand on the spot she indicated. "Lie down," he commanded as he led her to the bed.

"I'm fine," she insisted through clenched teeth. Her feet remained rooted to the ground despite his many attempts to gently coax her to his bed. "Seriously, Dean. It just stings a little. I'll be fine," she replied, the tone in her voice convincing him she meant every word.

He eyed her wearily but removed his hands from her body. "If you're sure," he said and walked away from her. Dean didn't know what it was about her that brought him to his knees each and every time she felt discomfort from her accident. Sure, Brooke was a beautiful woman with a kind spirit and spunk attitude. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't attracted to her, but at the end of the day, he was still the cop managing her case. She was his little sister's best girlfriend. Too many strings meant too many complications that Dean didn't want nor need. He had enough baggage of his own to take care of, after all.

* * *

Nathan unbuckled Jamie from his booster chair and proceeded to take him out of their car. "Do you think I'm gonna get to shoot the ball a lot, Daddy?"

The young father nodded his head patiently. "I think so," he answered earnestly. "You've got a great jump shot for a midget."

The little boy laughed at his father's comment and took the hand he offered as they moved to walk across the street. "I'm not a midget! I'm five years old! I'm supposed to be this short!"

Nathan hit himself on the forehead, an act that brightened the light in his son's eyes. "Of course! How could I forget?" he played along with his son. They walked hand in hand until their feet met the sidewalk. As soon as Nathan let go of his hand, Jamie continued on with the endless questioning, the subject switching from basketball to his favorite uncle.

"Do you think Uncle Lucas is really gonna get married this time?"

Nathan certainly wasn't prepared for the question so he masked his surprise with ease. "What are you talking about?"

"Well, Uncle Lucas said he wanted to marry Lindsey and spend the rest of his life with her. And now he wants to marry Aunt Peyton. Are they really gonna do it, or are they gonna change their mind like last time?"

Nathan stopped walking and crouched down to his son's height before answering. "Jamie, your Uncle Luke and Lindsey didn't get married because she didn't think it was what he wanted."

"Then why did he ask her to marry him if it wasn't what he wanted?" Jamie asked, truly perplexed by the whole idea of marriage.

His father shrugged his shoulders and clasped his hands together, resting the tips of his elbows on his thighs. "I think Uncle Luke _thought_ at the time that Lindsey was the girl he was supposed to be with for forever. When Lindsey stopped the wedding, it made him realize that he didn't love her as much as he loved your Aunt Peyton."

The kid nodded his head, prompting Nathan to stand and continue their walk towards the courts. "Is there another girl that Uncle Luke would love more than Aunt Peyton?"

An image of Brooke Davis flashed quickly through Nate's mind. In all honesty, he was sure that ship sailed a long time ago, but his big brother was notorious for being indecisive when it came to the two girls. Brooke or Peyton, Peyton or Brooke—the story always came back to the popular love triangle. Lindsey never stood a chance.

But in the long run, Luke had chosen Peyton. Their love was epic in every sense of the word, so much so that Brooke willingly took herself out of the equation to let fate run its course between the two lovers—regardless of the fact that he was her boyfriend, and Peyton was her best friend.

"No," Nathan finally answered his son. "I think your Uncle Luke has finally got it right this time," he said honestly.

"Good. Now all we have to do is get Aunt Brooke and Uncle Dean together."

"What?!" Nathan couldn't believe his ears. Where was _this_ coming from? "Jamie, _where_ do you get these ideas from?"

"I can't tell you," the little boy said solemnly, his eyes darting in every direction but towards his father. When Nathan stopped walking and crossed his hands over his chest threateningly, Jamie sighed and hesitantly met his dad's gaze. "Aunt Brooke likes to watch soap operas," he said innocently, shrugging his shoulders.

He tried his best not to laugh and instead chose to sigh deeply. "And these soap operas that you watch gave you the idea that Brooke and Uncle Dean need to be together?"

"Uh-huh," the boy responded easily, glad that his father was on the same page.

Nathan shook his head and crouched down to talk to his son once again. "All right, _first _of all, no more soap operas. I don't care what Brooke says. And second of all, Jamie, the world doesn't work the way you want it to. Your Aunt Brooke and Uncle Dean can't just come together because it's what you decided. They need to see if it's what _they_ want first."

"But I don't see what the big deal is," Jamie began. "He looks at her the same way you look at Mama."

Jamie's observation stunned his father, rendering him truly speechless for the first time that morning. Before he could begin to think of an appropriate response, he was saved by little Robert Andrews running towards them, calling out to his son.

"Jamie!" the kid screamed ecstatically, waving his hands in the air as he made his way over. Nathan looked up in time to catch his mother chasing breathlessly after him.

"Robert Martin Andrews!" the young mother screamed after her kid. She stopped abruptly in front of the father and son duo, struggling to catch her breath. "You know you're not supposed to do stuff like that, Robby!" she quietly scolded her son. "_Never_ run off without telling me where you're going, and getting the okay from me. Are we clear?"

"Crystal," her son said brightly. "Sorry, mom. Its just… well, Jamie's here!"

"Yeah, sorry Mrs. Andrews," Jamie piped up from his spot. "The kids always get excited to see me."

Mrs. Andrews laughed at the cute comment while Nathan smirked and shook his head lightly. "Dude, conceited much?"

Robby looked up to him and asked, "What's con-seeded mean?"

"_Conceited_," his mother corrected him.

"It means my son thinks way too much of himself," Nathan answered, patting his son on top of his head. He turned his attention to the girl before him and stuck out his hand. "You must be Jane."

Jane's head bobbed up and down as she shook the hand put out before her. "Jane Andrews, but everyone calls me Jae," she formally introduced herself. "And you're Nathan Scott of the University of Maryland." He raised his eyebrows in surprise, and she scrunched her face up in mild embarrassment. "Huge basketball fan, what can I say?" she said with a laugh.

"Favorite team?" Nathan found himself asking.

"The Lakers, of course," Jae answered with obvious pride. "Born and raised in Los Angeles so I can't help it, really," she explained.

He nodded his head and gave her an apologetic smile. "Sorry about the championship," he said, referring to the Lakers' loss to the Boston Celtics.

She shrugged off his apology with nonchalance. "Please," she began. "I'm glad Garnett finally got his championship ring, but aside from that, Boston can kiss my—"

"Mom, don't say it," her son cut in when he saw where the conversation was headed. Nathan laughed at the role reversal while the young mother ran a hand through her hair.

"Sorry, sweet pea," she replied to her son, rubbing his shoulders.

"It's okay," he said before turning his attention back to Nathan. "She gets like that whenever she talks about basketball."

"Well, aside from her potty mouth," he said, smiling at Robby's mother, "you should be proud your mom knows her stuff. How many mothers do you know out there that know their basketball, huh?"

Jamie nodded his head and directed his gaze at his friend. "It's true," he agreed with his father. "My mom still calls a free throw a touchdown."

Jae laughed at the comment, looking to Nathan. Her eyes asked him if his son was serious, to which he sadly nodded his head. "And to make matters worse, she was a cheerleader in high school so she's supposed to know better."

"Oh, man," Jae groaned quietly as she pulled her son towards the direction of the basketball courts. "Come on, guys. We should get going. Warm-ups start in five minutes, and then they pick teams."

The two kids followed suit, Nathan following closely behind. Jae turned to him and offered to take Jamie off his hands. "If you have things to do, I can take him from here. Haley told you he was spending the night, right?"

Nathan nodded his head but made no move to leave. "She did, but I want to see Jamie play. Besides," he shrugged as they fell into step besides their respective sons. "With the kids playing, your potty mouth can tell me all about how much you despise Paul Pierce."

She threw her head back and laughed. "_Don't_ get me started on Pierce."

"Yeah, don't," Robby interrupted again. "She can go on for days about that one."

The quad laughed as they made their way over to the check-in desks.

* * *

"So what's your take on Dean moving in with Brooke?"

Luke gripped the steering wheel tighter underneath his fingertips. It was a wonder he managed not to swerve the car at Peyton's out of the blue question. He stole a glance at her and brought his eyes back to the road. "What do you mean?"

Peyton shrugged her shoulders and burrowed deeper into the passenger seat. She'd long since given up on trying to find a decent song on the radio. Had they taken her car like she insisted, this wouldn't be such a problem. "Well, you know Dean better than I do. To me, he's a complete stranger moving in with my best friend."

He frowned at her words and looked at her briefly. "The fact that he's Haley's brother doesn't mean anything to you?"

She shook her head lightly. "It's not about that Luke. I'm sure he's a great guy and everything, but… _I_ don't know him. And after all that Brooke has been through this past week…"

Luke nodded his head and turned the radio off all together. "I don't think your problem is Dean moving in." She looked at him questioningly, and he brought his eyes to the road. "I think you're feeling guilty for moving out."

Her mouth took on the shape of an 'O' as she sat up in her seat. "No! It's not about that."

"It isn't?" he asked unconvinced. "Here we are, moving on with the rest of our lives while Brooke seems to be losing her ground?"

Peyton was so silent he thought she didn't hear him. After a minute passed, she told him the truth. "She won't admit it, but I know that she came home for me. She opened up shop here, helped me jumpstart my own record label all because I called her one night to tell her how my life was slowly spinning out of control." She turned to Luke then and frowned sadly. "She dropped _everything _to be there for me and made everything better. Now, look at what's happened to her—and the first thing I do is move in with you… of _course_ I feel guilty."

"Peyton, you can't think like that," he tried soothing her pain. "You may be the reason she came back to Tree Hill, but she stayed because she missed _us_. All of us, not just you. She wanted her friends—she needed her family. She wanted to love and to be loved. Why do you think she wanted to be a mom so bad?"

"I know," Peyton mumbled begrudgingly. "I just… I can't help but feel like I'm abandoning my best friend for my fiancé," she quickly sobered up and looked at him. "That didn't come out right."

Luke easily shook his head and gave her a reassuring smile. "I know what you mean. Why don't you talk to her about it when we get there?" he asked encouragingly. "Maybe it'll make you feel better to let her know that you're still there for her even if you're not living together."

Peyton nodded her head and reached out her hand to cover his own. When he intertwined their fingers together, she smiled and pulled their hands to her lips. "Thank you."

"For what?" he asked.

She shrugged. "For always knowing the right thing to say." Her brow furrowed together as she brought the conversation back on course. "You didn't answer my question. How do you feel about Dean moving in with Brooke?"

Luke sighed, playing off the act by checking his side mirrors. Here, the thought he'd smoothly evaded having to answer the question. Too bad Peyton was too smart for that. "Why does my opinion matter?"

"I don't know—maybe because you've known Dean for as long as you've known Haley… minus the fact that he's been out of town for the last eight years." She rubbed at his hand with her free one and turned her body to face his from the passenger seat. "You think it's a good idea for them to be living under the same roof?"

Luke took a moment to consider the question. _Did _he like the idea of his childhood mentor (aside from Keith, of course) moving in with his former girlfriend/somewhat best friend? Of course he was. Brooke had just been attacked, Dean was a cop… the situation seemed perfect. Brooke wouldn't feel so alone in her big house with Peyton gone, and Dean would be there to protect and comfort her from whatever dangers that lurked outside her door.

"Dean's a good guy. More importantly, he's investigating her case," Luke said as he pulled up to Brooke's house. "He'll take good care of her, I'm sure." Though he said this with great conviction, he barely managed to sincerely choke the words out of his mouth. He wasn't too comfortable with another guy protecting Brooke, but expressing this to his current fiancé—who just so happened to be _best friends_ with his former love—didn't seem like such a great idea. So he kept these comments to himself.

"Okay, then," she replied with a jerk of her head. "I trust your judgment so if you have faith in him, then so do I," she said with such confidence. He envied her loyalty to him and the way she trust every word that slipped past his lips, no questions asked. It made him feel guilty, considering the thoughts inside his head would most certainly bring pause to their upcoming nuptials. Clearly, he didn't deserve her.

But he wouldn't say that, either.

They made their way out of his car and walked the short path to Brooke's front door. Peyton dug into her oversized purse in search of her keys. "I don't know why I bought this thing," she muttered as her fingers reached the bottom of her bag, her hands coming up empty.

Luke smirked and leaned over his girlfriend to ring the doorbell. When she didn't look up from her purse, he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. "I heard that if you press that button over there," he said pointing at the doorbell, "the door will magically open."

"Ha, ha. Don't mock me, Scott," she replied, still rifling through her purse. "They're in here somewhere—"

The rest of her sentence was cut off when the front door flew open and revealed a breathless Dean. _Wonder what he was doing?_ Luke couldn't help but think to himself. Dean smiled at the presence of their new guests and opened the door completely, ushering them into his temporary place of residence. "Hey, _Leyton_," he smirked at the nickname.

Luke threw glowered at him, shaking his head in disapproval. "Shut up, Dean."

The command prompted Dean's smirk to grow into a full on smile. "Sorry, man. Couldn't help it. Brooke kept insisting that _Leyton_ was coming over to pick up the boxes. I had no idea the girl had a mouth on her. She can go on for days."

"I _heard_ that," Brooke scolded as she came out of his bedroom. She carefully made her way into the living room to greet her friends. Her ribs were throbbing from the altercation with Dean earlier, but if she complained, she'd be ordered straight to bed rest. That seriously wasn't an option. "Hey guys," she greeted Peyton and Lucas before leaning against the back of the couch.

"You okay, there?" Luke found himself asking. He'd memorized the many faces of Brooke Davis long ago. He could instantly tell when she was happy, sad, puzzled, upset… or in this case, in pain. The muscles on her face remained stiff, the only movement coming from her lips when she'd speak or smile.

She gave him a knowing look, telling him without words not to make a fuss out of her discomfort. "I'm good, Lucas." She cocked her head towards Dean's direction and looked pointedly at Peyton. "I'm telling you, between these two, it's amazing that I'm able to wipe my ass with my own two hands."

"Brooke!" Peyton said in astonishment, laughing after the comment.

"Gross," Dean said in a heartbeat. "It takes two hands to wipe your ass?"

Her eyes flashed with murder as the three of them doubled over in pure amusement. Brooke's cheeks tinted red at the embarrassment. Clearly, she'd forgotten how it felt to be the butt of the joke. "_Ass_," Brooke said below her breath, picking up a throw pillow from the couch and tossing it in his direction.

"Careful," Dean warned her, easily catching the pillow with one hand. "Remember what happened last time you tried getting physical with me?" He quirked his eyebrows up, and even she couldn't hold back a smile.

"I'm beginning to think this was a really bad idea," Brooke said, her eyes still lit with mirth.

"Me, too," Luke muttered quietly, grateful that no one had heard him.

"Come on, Detective Dean," Peyton chided, winking at Brooke when the older man groaned at the name. "You can help me bring the boxes out of your room."

He jerked his chin towards Luke. "Why can't he help you?"

"Because I don't want his help. I want _yours_," she informed him. "It gives me a chance to give you a rundown of the house rules." Peyton made her way to her former room, not waiting for him to follow.

Like a kid, Dean dragged his feet behind her, "I already _know_," he said aloud. "I'm a dead man if I step one foot into Brooke's room. We had this conversation already."

Brooke smiled and shook her head at the two of them as they disappeared around the corner. "Could she be any more subtle?" She slowly sat down on the couch, grimacing when the right side of her tummy protested the movement.

"Can _you_?" Luke countered, coming over to Brooke's side to ease her down to sit. "What happened? I thought you were feeling better?"

She took a couple of deep breaths and pursed her lips together. "I'm _fine_, Lucas. It's nothing. Dean and I were just playing around and I…," she sighed as she tried to figure out what to say. "I guess I just forgot about my ribs."

"Brooke," Luke began as he threw his arm around the back of the couch. "You've gotta be more careful. The only reason Dr. Copeland let you leave the hospital was because you promised you'd take it easy." He pointed to the hand over her ribs. "_That _isn't exactly my idea of taking it easy."

She rolled her eyes and laid her head on the back of the couch, the top of her head brushing Luke's arm. "I _know_," she answered mechanically. "I can't help it sometimes, though. This is only the second time this has happened—"

"Second time?" Luke asked incredulously. "When was the first?"

She cringed at the slip of her tongue. "Um," she stuttered. "The first time was… after I was released from the hospital. Dean and I were talking, we started laughing, and I completely forgot about my sides hurting, until I pulled my knees towards my chest." She shrugged, not having anything left to say.

Luke remained quiet as he took a moment to process her words. He couldn't wrap his head around the idea of Dean and Brooke bonding so well. Sure, he'd seen the two flirt every now and then, but Lucas genuinely thought the depth of their relationship was the playful banter they displayed for everyone to see. He never took into account the quiet conversations the two shared behind closed doors. "It seems the two of you are getting along beautifully," he commented.

Brooke scrunched her face up, but her eyes remained vibrant when she spoke. "He's a dick. Talks too damn much, clearly doesn't know what the word _boundaries_ means, but you know me. I'm always ready to break a guy in." Her eyebrows wiggled as she gave him the once over with her eyes. "Look at the fabulous job I did with you."

Luke laughed at her expression, pushing his head from one side to another. "Yes, my mother would be so proud," he added, dipping his head towards her. "But really. How are you, Brooke? With Angie gone and all?"

"Who's Angie? Your lesbian lover?" Dean couldn't help from asking as he carried a box out of his room.

"Pervert," Peyton accused him as she carried a box smaller in comparison.

"_Angie_," Brooke cut in, "was a baby that I took care of from another country. To make a long story short, she had a heart defect and needed surgery or else she'd die. I took care of her right before and after the surgery."

"Wow," Dean found himself saying. It seemed there were many layers to Brooke Davis he'd yet to uncover. "That's an amazing thing you did there."

"That's our Brooke," Peyton said proudly. "She's always saving everyone one hand at a time."

"Yep," Brooke plastered on a cheery smile for her friends. "That's me, all right."

"You should be proud of yourself," Dean said. He noticed her shift uncomfortably underneath the watchful eyes of Luke and Peyton. He wanted to help relax her hidden anxiety and at the same time, not undermine the importance of the person she was. "There aren't a lot of people your age that care as much as you do," he told her with a nod of her head before opening the door to take his box out.

"Between the three of us?" Peyton said once she knew Dean was out of earshot, "I _like_ him."

Brooke nodded her head and squeezed her cheeks inwards towards the tip of her nose. "I know, he kinda grows on you after a while."

"Indeed he does," her friend replied. She picked up her box and made her way towards the door. When she reached the threshold, she turned to look over her shoulder and smiled saucily at her best friend. "And dare I say… he sure does look good on you, B. Davis." With that, she sauntered out of the house, ignoring the gasp that fell past Brooke's lips.

Too bad she missed the slight scowl that surfaced on her fiancé's. Luke swiped a hand over his face, hiding the frown beneath his hand as he turned to look at Brooke again. "Be careful around Dean," he found himself saying.

His words must've shocked her as much as they surprised him, and her face told him so. Her brow furrowed in confusion. Surely she'd misheard him. "What do you mean?"

"I…" What _did_ he mean? He was engaged to be married to Peyton. The idea of Brooke and Dean together shouldn't bother him as much as it did. He swallowed past the uncomfortable lump in his throat and retrieved the arm that had fallen across her shoulders. "With your ribs," he heard himself say. "He's good company, but if the man has you rolling with every joke, it'll be back to bed rest for you. Minus the personal bonding time with Detective Dean."

Brooke shook her head and avoided his eyes all together. "Always looking out for me, Lucas Scott."

He shrugged in response. "What can I say? I _did _promise to save you… once upon a time."

Her eyes glazed over as the memory of that night washed over her. They were together. They were struggling, but they were both putting in the effort to make their relationship work. She shook her head to clear the cobwebs of yesterday's past from her eyes and stared at her first love. "Isn't it crazy how much time passes by? That seems like it was so many years ago."

Luke nods his head sadly. Without comment, he raises himself from the couch and walks towards Dean's room, ready to help move things along faster. Before leaving the living room, he turns to Brooke and can't help himself from commenting. "And now you have Dean to save you."

He watched as she opened her mouth to speak, quick to deny the comment with a shake of her head. "Luke, it's not… we're not like that."

He nods his head in understanding, mostly for Brooke's benefit. But he knows better.

After all, he's a master of her many faces. He was always able to read her like a book.

The gift had always been a blessing… but now, he discovered it to be a curse.


	6. Running, running as fast as we can

_Author's note: Again, thank you **so** much for all your reviews. It means a lot and inspires me to keep the chapters coming. This chapter was a bit more difficult, and in turn, much longer than the previous ones, so I hope you enjoy it. Thanks!_

"So do you get to hold a gun all the time?"

Dean awkwardly adjusted his nephew's hand in his own as they crossed the street towards the elementary school. He had no clue what he was thinking when he told Haley he could take Jamie to school on his way to work. Maybe it was the fact that she'd seemed so desperate for a helping hand. She insisted that he bond with her son, and in the end, he couldn't turn his baby sister down.

"When I'm on the clock, I do," he answered honestly.

"Do you have to wear the cop uniform, too?" the kid asked eagerly.

Dean smirked and shook his head. "Nope. That I _don't _have to wear." And thank goodness for that. He'd despised the uncomfortably, hot black suit he'd been forced to wear years ago as a rookie cop. Life as a detective for the police department was harder, nonetheless, but he'd gladly endure the long hours than wear that monkey suit day in and day out.

"So, why did you come back here?"

He looked down at his nephew and glowered. "Anyone ever tell you that you ask too many questions?"

Jamie smiled innocently and nodded his head. "All the time. Anyone ever tell you I keep asking until I get an answer?"

Dean couldn't help but laugh at the unexpected question. He didn't know which side the kid got his spunkiness from, but it was definitely adorable coming from someone so young. He shook his head and chose to answer the previous question rather than the last. "When I was a baby, my parents decided that they were better off as friends than they were as husband and wife."

Of course, that was a lie, but the kid was five. Somehow, he didn't think Jamie would understand it if Dean told him his parents couldn't stand the sight of one another after being married for just half a year.

"That's sad," Jamie said as solemnly as a five year old could.

"Yeah, it sucked but that's life, right?" he shrugged the comment off. "Anyway, my mother met your Grandpa Jimmy, and they fell in love and got married. My parents decided that I would live with my father and during the summer, I would come home to Tree Hill to live with Grandma Lydia, your aunts and your mother."

"So, you had two homes?"

The corners of his mouth shrugged along with his shoulders as he bobbed his head up and down. "Yeah, but my home was always where my family was. That was one thing that never changed over the years. Anyway," he continued, "to make a long story short, my father died right before my eighteenth birthday, and when I went to go live with Grandma Lydia, we sorta got into a fight."

"What was the fight about?" Jamie inquired even though they were at the footsteps of the school's entrance.

Dean crouched down to his level and answered, "Grown-up stuff. It's nothing you need to know really. We disagreed on a couple of things, and I went to join the police academy in New York."

Jamie frowned at the story being told. "So, then you were all by yourself in New York? With no family?"

Dean shook his head and smiled at the kid, regardless of the shadow that dimmed the light in his eyes. "Not exactly. My best friend from Charlotte came with me, and we became cops together."

"What's his name?"

The smile slowly disappeared from his facial features as an image of his best friend flashed through his mind. "Sam," he said quietly. "His name was Sam Montgomery."

Jamie smiled unaware of the sadness that loomed over his uncle. "I'm glad you had your friend Sam there with you. Family is where your home is, and I'm happy you found a home away from the people who love you."

Having said his peace, he leaned over and gave his uncle a mini hug before sprinting towards his classroom. "I'll see you later, Uncle Dean!" he yelled over his shoulder before disappearing behind a door.

Dean jerkily nodded his head even though his nephew was long gone.

* * *

"It's such a beautiful day," Brooke couldn't help but remark as the breeze from the water blew her hair from her face.

Nathan agreed to take her to her last appointment with Dr. Copeland. The young doctor proudly gave Brooke a clean bill of health and commended her for following his instructions on taking it easy. He even rewarded her with a cherry lollipop that brought an adolescent smile to her face.

A celebration was in order, and Brooke offered to take Nathan out to lunch. It was her own special way of thanking him for being such a good friend and for the hospitality he showed her while recuperating at his house. Dean was off following a lead on her case, and Peyton was going over various demo tapes she'd neglected to listen to over the weekend. Both Haley and Lucas were tied up at Tree Hill High seeing as it was early afternoon on a school day. So the two childhood friends took it upon themselves to enjoy the company of one another and catch up on old times.

When Nathan had yet to say anything in response to her earlier comment, she brought her full attention towards her friend and sighed. "Still not talking to me?"

The man in question grunted and pretended to study the menu before him. They were at The Creek Water Café down by the river, which was unusually busy for a Tuesday afternoon. Back in high school, the gang often came down to Creek Water to switch things up from eating at Karen's Café. The two had already ordered their meals, so the fact that Nathan perused the menu spoke volumes.

"Come on, Nate. I said I was sorry. I'll never do it again," Brooke pleaded.

He removed his eyes from the menu only to frown at her momentarily. "You know better, Brooke," he reprimanded. "It shouldn't have happened in the first place."

She rolled her eyes. "I know, I know and I'm _sorry_," she apologized for the third time that morning. She gave him her infamous puppy eyes that always won him over when they were younger.

He glared at their presence and scoffed annoyingly. "Don't even try that, Davis," Nathan warned her. "I've got a five year old son that can't even get away with that."

Brooke groaned and threw her hands up in the air. "Well, what am I supposed to do? I'm already buying you lunch, I apologized a gazillion times—what do you want from me?"

He lazily tapped a finger against the tip of his chin while he thought the question over. He ignored Brooke's huffs of impatience and continued to think of a fair punishment to his friend's wrongdoings. As if a light bulb flashed in his head, his eyes widened as he snapped his fingers together. "I've got it. _You_ can take Jamie to see High School Musical 3."

Brooke's jaw became slack as she stared at her friend with wide eyes. "You wouldn't."

He smirked in response. "I think I just _did_."

"Nathan! That's not fair! I can't _stand_ that trilogy, and you know it!" she yelled.

"Yeah, well neither can I. Haley begged me to take him cos she had to sit through _High School Musical on Ice_ when it came to Tree Hill, so I said I would." The smirk on Nathan's face grew into a cheesy grin as he eyed the brunette before him. "Now, I don't have to."

"Ugh," she groaned in distaste. "You suck."

Nathan shrugged. "Next time I tell you not to let my kid watch soap operas, you should try listening."

She stuck out her tongue at him, and her spirits lifted when he laughed at her immaturity. "Well, at least you're talking to me again."

"Mmm," he commented as he put his menu down. "Remember that when Zac Effron comes on the big screen singing about the damn time," he laughed.

She cringed at the thought before a picture of the kid actor flashed through her mind. "You know, the guy _is_ pretty dreamy for an underage adolescent."

Nathan's faced drew together in mild disgust. "Okay, _pedophile_. Maybe I shouldn't let you take Jamie after all," he joked. He ducked just in time to miss the crumpled napkin Brooke threw his way, shaking his head at her childishness. "Relax, I was just kidding."

"Yeah, yeah whatever," she said with a shake of her head. "How is my godson doing, anyway?"

Nathan smiled at the mention of his favorite little man. "He's good. Haley and I enrolled him into basketball camp earlier this week, and so far, he loves it."

Brooke nodded her head in recognition. "Yeah, she told me about it the day of the big breakfast. Sounds like fun. I bet he's making all sorts of friends."

"Yeah, he actually came into the league with a friend from class, Robby Andrews. Smart kid, really good on the court, too," Nathan said. "Pretty sad story though. His father died two years ago when he was on deployment in Iraq, so it's just been him and his mom, Jae."

Brooke's face crumpled in sadness at the story. "That's awful. Poor thing, I couldn't imagine going through that."

"You're telling me," he reciprocated the feeling. "She's a strong woman, I'll tell you that. She loses her husband and has to play both mother and father to her five-year-old son? That's gotta be tough." He shakes his head as thoughts of a life without Haley enter his mind. "I don't think I could do it."

"Well, you never know what you're capable of until you're forced to face the unthinkable, you know?" Brooke told him. "Maybe you should invite her over to the house for dinner. She seems like a cool girl, and Jamie can have someone to hang with while the adults… do adult things."

Nathan thought the idea over and nodded his head in agreement. "That's a great idea, Brooke."

She shrugged and gave one of her tantalizing, signature smiles. "Yeah, I've been known to come up with a few every now and then. What can I say?"

His eyes narrowed as another realization dawned upon him. "And now, I've figured out why Jamie's been acting so self-centered lately." He gave her a pointed look.

"Ex_cuse_ me, I am not responsible for that!" she quickly defended herself.

"I'm didn't say you teach him that stuff, Brooke. You just have to watch what you say around him. He's young, impressionable and quick to mimic everything you do—especially if he looks up to you," he told her. "Tone down the B. Davis whenever you're around my son."

"Man, this celebration lunch is turning into a serious downer," she muttered, sinking lower into her chair. "Who would've thought I'd suck at being a godmother, too?"

"Shut the hole in your face," Nathan said unapologetically. "Your _woe is me_ song and dance doesn't work on me either." He moved his head to the right and just missed the piece of bread she'd attempted to hit him with. "Real mature."

"I've decided that I don't like you right now," Brooke said perkily.

"I'm sure you'll get over it soon."

Brooke sat back and shook her head at his attitude. "Oh, and you think _I'm_ the one that taught your son to be so vain." She chuckled when he glared back at her with no retaliation. "Take a good look in the mirror, Scott. He spends more time with you than he does with me."

"Whatever, man," he dismissed the argument completely. "Let's change the subject before this celebration turns into a brawl."

"Fine by me," she replied merrily.

"So, are you or are you not into Haley's brother?"

Brooke was in the process of taking a sip of water and managed to miss spraying it towards Nathan when he spoke. He snickered and grabbed a napkin to clear the watermarks she'd left on the table. "That answers my question."

"And what would possess you to even _ask_ me something like that?" she demanded.

Nathan rolled his eyes and put the damp napkin on another table. "Please, Brooke. I've known you since we were kids. I know how you operate, and I know that look you get in your eye when you're interested in someone. Don't sit there and tell me you're not hot for my brother-in-law."

Brooke hated the way her friends were able to see right through her façade. Here, she thought she'd done a perfect job at guarding her feelings for Detective Dean. Then again, she'd be stupid to think that her friends wouldn't figure out what was going on inside her mind. "Well, have you _seen_ the guy? Who in their right mind wouldn't be attracted to him?" When Nathan opened his mouth to speak, she put up a finger to his protest and added, "Present company excluded, of course."

He nodded his head firmly and sat back in his chair once more. "So then, what's the problem?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, why don't you two go on a date or something? Get to know each other better. Hell, you live under the same roof. I'm surprised you two haven't slept together, yet," he remarked obliviously.

Brooke's face fell instantly, and this time, she refused to try and hide it. "Nice, Nathan," she managed to say in a low voice.

"Brooke, I didn't mean it like that," he apologized. He reached across the table to place his hand over his. "That was an asshole thing to say, and I'm sorry."

"Don't be," she shrugged his hand away. "It's kind of hard to shake the image of being a town whore once the label's glued to the clothing line."

He didn't say anything in fear of adding insult to injury. Everyone knew the Scott brothers were notorious for saying the wrong thing at the wrong time, so Nathan wisely chose to keep his mouth shut. When Brooke finally glanced over at him, he wordlessly pleaded for forgiveness through his eyes. In a quiet voice, he apologized again. "I'm sorry."

A corner of her mouth picked up, and he knew he was in the clear. "I'll forgive you if and _only _if you take Jamie to see High School Musical."

Nathan groaned incredulously and slumped further into his chair, his elbows just touching the base of his seat. "How did I not see that coming?"

Brooke's bright smile with matching dimples came back into place as she shrugged innocently. "Seems fair to me. Call me a whore, and off to the movies you go."

"You know that I didn't mean for it to come out that way," he pleaded genuinely, raising himself up to sit properly.

She shook off the comment with a turn of her head. "It's okay, really."

Once he was sure her feelings weren't hurt, Nathan continued on with the previous conversation. "But I still want to talk about what's going on between you and Dean."

"There's _nothing_ going on between us," she repeated for the umpteenth time. Why wasn't anyone hearing her? "What is with you guys? First, Jamie wants to play matchmaker. Then, Peyton's making goo-goo eyes at us both—and don't get me started on Lucas."

The mention of his brother's name coming from her lips piqued his interest. "What'd Luke have to say about it?"

Brooke rolled her eyes and opened her mouth to answer when their server came over with their lunch orders. May, as her nametag stated, placed her barbecue chicken sandwich with coleslaw, then proceeded to place Nathan's double bacon cheeseburger with fries on his side of the table. She laughed at the way his eyes lit up and he grinned in satisfaction before popping a fry between his teeth. "_Heaven_," he breathed as his eyes rolled back in fulfillment.

Brooke smiled and took a generous bite of her sandwich. "Tell me about it."

"Oh, and don't think you can sidetrack me with food talk," he told her around a mouthful of meat. "What did Luke have to say about you and Dean?"

She rolled her eyes and chose to finish the food in her mouth before speaking. "He made some comment about how Dean would be the one to save me," she complained as she stacked her coleslaw onto her fork.

Nathan remained quiet as he grabbed the bottle of ketchup and doused an empty part of his plate with the condiment. "I wonder why he felt the need to comment at all," he attempted to sound nonchalant.

Brooke chewed around the cabbage in her mouth and took a sip of water to clean her mouth after swallowing her food. "If you have something to say, why don't you just say it?"

He considered this question while taking another bite from the burger. Brooke Davis and Lucas Scott had always been stubborn and infuriating in Nathan's eyes. His older brother never could choose between the two best friends, and the woman sitting before him never allowed herself to love anyone as completely and fully as she had with Luke. There was a wide span of emotional history between them that had yet to be figured out even now, seven years later. Nathan had a feeling that Luke was still second guessing building a life with Peyton, and something told him Brooke's inability to fall in love again had everything to do with her hardest heartbreak.

"I just want you happy. That's all," Nathan spoke up after a moment of silence.

She gave him an appreciatively and tilted her head to the side. "And what makes you think that I'm not?"

With a sober expression, he answered just as quickly. "What makes you think you are?"

* * *

"I can't believe you proposed over the phone."

Lucas made notes for this week's game on his yellow notepad before looking up to glare at his best friend. "Just because I'm a writer doesn't mean I have to do everything romantic, you know."

Haley rolled her eyes and dipped her disposable spoon into the plastic container of her yogurt. "Yes, it does," she told him. "You're talking to an English teacher here. I would know." Her hazel eyes popped open as she leaned forward from the seat before his desk, placing the yogurt on the table. "Speaking of which, you won't believe what one of my students suggested for her reading assignment."

When he gave her a puzzled, yet uninterested look, she slapped a hand on her desk and told him. "_The Unkindness of Ravens_."

Luke laughed at that and crossed a foot over the opposite knee. His hand moved over his lips as he smiled at the annoyed expression on her face. "What? My book isn't good enough for your eleventh grade book list?"

"Lucas! It's not about that!" she retorted. "My students are supposed to take me seriously. I want them to respect me, and I'm sure I'll lose that once they find out I got married when I was their age only to have a baby on the day of our graduation."

He shook his head and spread the fingers of his hand out in confusion. "I don't know why you're so worried. It's not like the whole town doesn't know your history, Haley James Scott."

She sighed and rolled her eyes. Haley retrieved her abandoned treat and leaned back into her seat as she swirled the yogurt onto the spoon. "Still," she whined. "Couldn't you have changed our names in your book? I'd rather not have my life story in print for everyone to read."

"And why not?" Luke scribbled out the entire play he'd just worked on, having remembered his defense wasn't strong enough to pull it off. "You should be proud of the person you were five years ago. Look at how far you've come, Hales. Both you and Nathan."

"Yeah," she agreed with a small nod of her head. Her focus remained on the creamy concoction as the spoon continued to scrape the sides of the cup.

"Hales?" her best friend asked when he recognized her behavior.

"Hmm?" The question woke her from her thoughts as she turned blurry eyes towards the basketball coach.

"Do you want to talk about whatever it is that's distracting you from interrupting my lunch break?"

Haley began to shake her head but then thought better of it. If there were anyone in Tree Hill who would understand how she was feeling, it would be Luke. "I'm just worried about Dean." Though she confided in her husband and girlfriends about any and everything, Haley couldn't trust their judgment on her estranged brother because they didn't really know him. Just as Dean was her big brother, his relationship with Lucas was identical. "I know that he came back here for a reason. He just doesn't want to talk about it, and… I'm just concerned."

Luke nodded his head and allowed her to speak her mind. Dean's unexpected arrival back into Tree Hill was too sudden to garner any type of reaction from either person. He'd walked back into their lives when he was assigned Brooke's case. There was no time for a proper "welcome home" conversation, and neither person had time to sit the man down to talk about everything they'd missed out on over the past eight years. Obviously, there were a lot of questions that Haley felt she needed answers to. "Has he said anything at all?"

She shook her head no. "He keeps saying that he needed to be _home_." She Luke a look and said, "and you know better than anyone what he means by that."

Lucas dipped his head in acknowledgment and leaned his chin on his chest. _Family_. It was the one thing Dean had learned to value, coming from a broken home. He loved both his parents dearly and treated his sisters as if they were his full blood. Then as if a flip had been switched, the Winchester boy had walked away from the one solid foundation he had left in his life to make something of himself in New York City. Lydia never spoke of the falling out she'd had with her only son and soon after made the decision to live on the road with Haley's father. "I'm just surprised he didn't do a better job at keeping touch over the years."

"At first, I would've said the same thing," she somewhat agreed. "But so much time has passed that now, I can't get used to the idea of him being _here_. It's so surreal, you know?"

"Have you talked to your mom or your sisters? Do they know he's here?"

Haley's head moved up and down as she finally discarded of the lukewarm yogurt. "I called my mom as soon as I found out, and she didn't sound surprised. If anything, she seemed relieved that he'd finally come to see me. Quinn, of course, couldn't care less about Dean's return and Vivian just said to keep her updated if anything interesting happened," she reported, disgusted by the lack of emotion from both her older sisters.

"And Taylor?" Luke asked, almost dreading the answer.

"I haven't been able to get a hold of that girl in _months_," Haley closed her eyes at the admission. There was no doubt that Taylor James was the most difficult out of the girls. She came and went as she pleased, never once taking into consideration that her family would be worried for her well being. "I'm telling you, Luke. I'm about ready to give up on that girl."

"Nah, you'd never do that," Luke disagreed. His face wore a slight grin as he regarded his best friend. "She's your family. You've never been able to turn your back on your family."

"Yeah, and I haven't figured out whether or not it's a blessing or a curse," she threw him a sarcastic smile. "There's something going on with him," Haley said, bringing the conversation back to Dean. "He's very distant and sometimes, even cold with me. Even when he'd had that big fight with my mother, Dean's never been this… odd."

"Did he have anyone there for him in New York? Maybe he's running away from a girl," Luke said with raised eyebrows. "No one knows better than I do about how well _that_ works."

Haley laughed and took the inquiry into consideration. "He's never mentioned anything about a girl. I know that he joined the department with his best friend from Charlotte." Her eyebrows furrowed together as a memory struck her. "You remember Sammy Montgomery, don't you? Dean brought him along a couple of times when he'd stay with us?"

An image of a scrawny, tall boy came into his mind and he nodded his head. "Vaguely," he replied.

"Dean and Sam have been friends for as long as you and I have. They're just as close, too," she informed him. A distant smile formed on her lips as her focus became hazy. "I used to have the biggest crush on him."

Surprised melted onto her friend's features as he sat up at the declaration. "I never knew that."

"Of course, you didn't. Just because you were my best friend didn't mean I had to tell you—a boy—about my grade school crush on_ your_ hero's best friend." She smiled at the frown on his face.

"Dean was _not_ my hero," he protested.

"Maybe not," she agreed. "But you sure did idolize him when we were kids." Haley tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear and ducked her head down, letting the memories from their childhood wash over her. "A part of me wasn't sure if you'd be friends with me had Dean not been in my life."

"Tell me you're _joking_," Lucas reprimanded her. He didn't wait for a response. "Haley James Scott, you know better than that."

"I know, I know," she agreed. "But you've gotta admit it; when we were kids, Dean wasn't only _my_ big brother. He was yours, too."

Luke considered the comment, his mind taking him back to a time before Nathan, Brooke and Peyton had entered his life. Dean Winchester was indeed the one person he admired aside from his Uncle Keith. The older kid exuded confidence at such an early age, a trait that Luke hoped to master once he hit high school. The two often bonded most when they were on the court. Dean perfected Luke's jump shot and taught the younger boy all the hot spots on the asphalt court. Together, they played nonstop until his game became good enough to rival the skills of his mentor. Unfortunately, the two boys never had the chance to play a serious game of ball once Dean decided to leave Tree Hill for good.

Since they weren't family, it was only fair for Lucas to focus on the pain Haley endured during his absence. Neither friend spoke of the loss he'd suffered from as well. Sure, Dean may not have been his brother by blood, but to him, they were family in every other way that mattered. But at that time, Haley didn't need him to mourn along with the loss of her number one protector; she needed Luke to help her through it, and because he was her best friend, he put aside his feelings of loss and did as she asked.

Luke shook his head and brought his thoughts back to the present. "I can't believe it's been eight years."

"You're telling me," Haley said under her breath. "I wonder what he's been doing since he's been gone."

* * *

"Aunt Brooke!"

Brooke smiled and hunched down to greet the boy that came running towards her. She smiled when Jamie launched himself into her arms, the impact almost forcing them down to the grass in front of his school. Her ribs ached from the strength of his embrace, but she was quick to school her reaction from the pain. "Something tells me you're excited to see me," she smiled.

"Uh huh," Jamie nodded his head vigorously. "I thought Daddy was gonna pick me up?"

"He was, sweetie, but I offered to come get you cos we're all having dinner at my house tonight."

His eyes glistened as the grip he had on her arms tightened. "So does that mean I get to stay at your house until dinner?" he asked excitedly.

"Only if you _want_ to," she spoke coyly, ruffling the hair on his head.

"Yes!" Jamie exclaimed, pumping his fist to his side in delight. Behind her shoulder, he caught a glimpse of his friend from basketball camp. "Robby!" he called out to him, waving his arm frenetically in the air.

Brooke gingerly stood up and turned around to see a boy the same age as Jamie making his way towards them. Though he held on to his mother's hand, it was clear the kid was dragging the poor woman across the lawn to meet up with his friend. "Who's Robby?"

"A kid from my basketball team," Jamie answered, coming in front of Brooke to say hi to his friend.

"Well, at least this time you didn't run off," Jae said to her son. She raised her eyes to Brooke, an excited smile appearing on her painted lips. "I don't believe we've met. I'm Jae Andrews, and this is my rude son, Robby."

The kid turned to frown at his mother. "Hey! I'm not rude," he objected.

"Really?" she asked, cocking her brow towards her hairline. "Then, where are your manners?"

Robby sighed in defeat and turned to look at Jamie's godmother, a pasty smiled plastered on his face. "Hello, maam. My name is Robert Andrews. It's a _pleasure_ to meet you," he said, his voice oozing with sweetness.

Jae rolled her eyes at her son while laughing at the complexity of his nature. "Smart-aleck."

"No, mom. My name is _Robert_. Not Alec," he beamed.

Jamie shook his head at his friend and offered his own advice. "You should really stop talking now, before you get in trouble."

"Nah," Robby shrugged it off. He batted his eyes at his mother and said, "My mom loves me too much to punish me."

Brooke couldn't help herself from giggling at the adorable kid. "Looks like you found someone just like you, huh Jamie?" she nudged her godson. She turned her attention to the woman before her and introduced herself. "Brooke Davis," she held her hand out and shook the young mother's.

"I know," Jae grinned back. "I'm a huge fan of your clothing line." She turned around to show Brooke the C/B label on the back of her jeans. "Never in my life have a pair of pants made my behind look _this_ good."

"Gross, mom," Robby said quietly, his eyes squinting as she showed off her backside.

"Aw, come on kid. You shouldn't be ashamed," Brooke chuckled, defending his mom. "Your mother is young and beautiful. You should be proud to show her off."

"See?" Jae elbowed her son on the shoulder. "Told you I was cool," she mockingly told her boy in a motherly tone. Brooke's laughter brought her eyes back to the fashionista. Confusion overtook the soft features of her face as she pointed a finger between woman and child. "If you don't mind me asking, how do you two…"

"He's my godson," Brooke answered. "Nathan and I are childhood friends, and Haley and I have been close since high school when they started dating."

"Aaah," she nodded her head in understanding. "And people say it's impossible to meet your soul mate in high school, right?"

"Isn't that where you met Daddy, mom?" Robby asked his mother shyly.

Without hesitation, Jae dipped her head in acknowledgment. Reverie swam in her deep brown eyes, and Brooke guessed she was remembering the time she'd met her late husband. "Yeah, sweetie. That's when your dad and I met." Her eyes caught Brooke studying her, and she felt the need to further explain. "My husband and I met our freshman year. He was a basketball player, and I was your average plain Jane."

Brooke smiled and slightly shook her head, the ends of her short brown hair brushing her chin. "Sounds familiar," she said before looking towards Jamie. "Nathan told me about your husband," she said to Jae sympathetically. She neglected to offer condolences. It seemed inappropriate after so much time had passed. "I can't imagine what that must've been like for the both of you."

A tight smirk pulled at the corners of Jae's lips before she shrugged, placing her hands on top of Robby's shoulders. "It's true what they say; It gets a little easier with each day that passes."

Brooke nodded her head, acknowledging the widow's response. She changed the direction of the conversation when her bright idea from this afternoon popped into her mind. "Hey, if you're not busy tonight, why don't you and Robby join us for dinner at my house?" She continued speaking when Jae opened her mouth to speak. "Before you say anything, you wouldn't be imposing at all. It's just dinner with Haley, Nathan and a couple of friends. We'd love to have you."

Jae placed a hand on her chest and sighed sadly. "As amazing as that sounds, we actually have plans to have dinner at Robby's grandma's house." Regret shone through her brown eyes as she continued to explain. "My late husband's mother likes to have us over once a week. It helps all of us to be surrounded by one another."

"Of course," Brooke understood. "We'll just have to do it another night, then. The offer still stands."

Jae held a finger in the air as she remembered her plans for the upcoming weekend. "You know, I have a better idea. It's Robby's birthday on Saturday, and we're having a party at the park down by the river. I've already invited the Scotts, but you and your friends are more than welcome to come, too."

"Yeah! That's a brilliant idea, Mrs. Andrews!" Jamie agreed eagerly. His blue eyes sparkled as he looked up towards his godmother. "Will you come, Aunt Brooke?"

She was flabbergasted at first, but Brooke threw her hands up in the air and bent down closer to the boy. "Sure! Of course, I'll come," she mimicked his excitement.

"Will you come with Uncle Dean?"

Brooke was certainly speechless _now_, as shock altered the smile on her face. "…Well, if Uncle Dean wants to go, I'm sure he'll come along," she answered best she could.

Jamie huffed in exasperation. He spoke to his aunt as if she wasn't more than four times his age. "That's not what I _asked_. I asked if you two could come _together_."

This time, she didn't bother masking the frown that pulled at the sides of her mouth, stretching her lips into a thin line. "We'll talk about that when we get back to my house, buddy."

"Oooh, I think you're in _trouble_," Robby singed teasingly to his friend.

From behind him, his mother pressed the tips of her fingers on the back of his head and lightly nudged him forward. "What did I tell you about instigating?" she reprimanded.

"But he _is_ in trouble," Robby defended himself. He looked up at Brooke, hoping she would redeem him from his mother's oncoming reprimanding. "Right?"

Brooke held up her hands in defense and instantly looked away. "Hey, don't look at me kid."

Jae laughed and reached down to hold Robby's smaller hand in her own. "We better get going. We don't want to keep Gramma Jean waiting," she said to her son. She glanced towards Brooke and informed her of the details for this weekend. "The party starts at noon, and the theme is—of course—basketball."

Brooke raised her eyebrows at the statement. "Surprise, surprise," she joked.

"I know, right?" Jae nodded her head in agreement. "Anyway, feel free to wear anything you want. It's not mandatory that everyone be dressed in jerseys or shirts supporting any NBA team. All I ask is that you please not show up wearing anything in relation to either Paul Pierce or the Boston Celtics."

The comment caused Brooke to pause, and she opened her mouth to question the bizarre dress code.

"_Please_, don't ask," Robby begged. "We could be here for _days_. She doesn't like the Celtics, and that's all there is to it." Jae shook her head at her son though she couldn't help a grin from emerging.

"Okay," Brooke said, accepting what little explanation she was given. "No Celtics. No Paul Pierce," she smirked. "We'll see you guys on Saturday."

* * *

Long after her guests left the house, Brooke found herself in the kitchen washing the remaining dishes. Her motions were calculatingly slow as her hand moved in circles to rid the few plates left in the sink. Behind her, the front door opened, and Dean walked in quietly, tired from a long day of work.

"You're home late," she commented, turning her head to look him over.

Dean was in the process of laying his duffel bag to the side of the door when he heard her. It was like a scene from a movie. Husband comes home to find wife waiting up for him doing housework. The thought surprised him and he shook the idea of having dreams aside. Still, he couldn't deny the fact the feeling was… _nice_.

He glanced at her before taking note of the time on his wristwatch. "You're up late." He walked over to the kitchen, his eyes scanning the leftover food cooling on the stovetop. "Did you have a party or something?"

Brooke turned off the faucet and grabbed a clean dishrag to dry her hands. "Your sister and her family came over for dinner along with Luke and Peyton."

He picked up a plate of wrapped spaghetti and nodded his head. "I'm sorry I missed it." Dean finally gave her his full attention as he gestured to the dish in his hand. "This for me?"

"Mmhmm," she said plainly. Truth be told, the day was a long one for the young fashion designer. From meeting with Dr. Copeland to lunch with Nathan, picking up Jamie and hosting dinner while babysitting the boy, Brooke had worn herself out. Her sides felt tender to the touch, still throbbing from her earlier interaction with her best friends' son. "I'm sorry you missed it, too. Jamie was looking forward to seeing you."

He instantly took note of the fatigue hidden behind her green eyes before nodding his head at the generosity she displayed. He wanted to thank her for going through the trouble of preparing a meal for him. In fact, Dean wanted to express his gratitude for all the caring things she'd done for him since he'd barged into her life. He said the first thing that came to mind.

"You look terrible."

She fixed him with an angry stare, wrapping the rag tight around her hand. "You're so charming," she uttered disdainfully. "And for that, you can heat up that plate all on your own."

"I wasn't expecting you to do it for me," he told her seriously. Brooke turned away and continued the dishes left in the sink. "I mean it, Brooke. Just because I'm crashing here doesn't mean you have to cater to me."

"Maybe I wasn't doing that. _Maybe_ I just have manners, Dean." She scrubbed at a fingerprint stain on a glass cup vigorously, as much as her body would allow. "A simple thank you would be nice, you know. Why do you always have to be so defensive?"

If the question was meant to be rhetorical, he didn't treat it like one. "Because that's who I am." She paused from attacking another piece of silverware, giving him a glimpse of her profile. He walked towards her and leaned the top portion of his body against the counter. "Tell you what. Why don't you let me finish these for you?" he offered, though the words were difficult to speak. Dean wasn't one to make polite gestures, but he needed to start somewhere.

Her eyes widened at the suggestion, and she did nothing to hide her surprise. "_You_ want to do dishes." It wasn't a question.

"No," he said a little too eagerly, smirking as she rolled her eyes at his reply. "But like I said earlier; you look like you're about to pass out—"

"Funny how quick you are to forget your _exact_ words," she cut in.

He flashed a full smile at her before continuing. "And I'd feel a whole lot better by sending you upstairs to rest. I can finish up down here." She stared up at him, her eyes wide and unguarded as she studied every curve of his face. The 

sincerity in his eyes had her staggered. He shrugged under the scrutiny of her gaze and tilted his head towards his shoulder. "It's the least I can do, right?"

Brooke blinked repeatedly, nodding her head in response. She didn't trust her voice to be steady considering the rapid beat of her heart, so she wordlessly moved out of the way and allowed him to step in front of the sink. Dean undid the buttons on the cuff of his shirt, pushing the material upwards towards his elbows. His movements were solid and yet rapid at the same time. She finally took note of the weariness plastered on his face as he took over the simple task of cleaning up. He'd worked around the clock today, and yet here he was, doing her dishes just so she could get off her feet.

"This would be the part where you march your ass up those stairs and rest," he reminded her, never breaking contact with a plate caked with grease.

"I was actually wondering if there were any updates with my case?" she asked tentatively.

Dean kept his actions in check, suppressing the surprise from her random question. "We've got a couple of leads, but nothing concrete," he answered sternly. He heard her smile as the insides of her mouth brushed against her teeth. He turned to look at her, confirmation sitting upon her smooth lips. "What?"

She shook her head bashfully, whirling her face away from view. The grin she held for him remained on her mouth as she tried shaking it away. "I'm not going to say a word. You're just gonna get upset," she warned him.

He opened his mouth to urge her to continue but quickly shut it once he noticed the gleam in her eyes. "You were making fun of my '_Detective Dean'_ voice again, weren't you?"

Brooke placed a delicate hand over her chest and giggled. "I can't help it!" she defended herself once he shook his head. "You just get _so serious_," she mocked him at the end of her statement. On its own accord, her body leaned towards her right side and a sharp pain overtook her senses. She inhaled a quick breath of air and squeezed her eyes shut.

Dean gravitated towards her, placing a soft hand on her forearm as he silently searched her face. "It still hurts?" Her head jerked up and down once as her eyes remained closed. "Didn't you have your final appointment with the doctor today? What'd he say?"

She took deep breaths before answering. "He said everything looked fine and that I'd healed nicely. I don't know why I'm so sore."

Dean eased her towards the barstool by the counter in the middle of the kitchen. Brooke slid onto it with his assistance and braced her hands on the granite top. Only then did she open her eyes, just to find Dean dissecting every grimace evident on her face. "Looks to me like you took it a little too hard today."

"But he said I was fine…"

"Fine, for someone who's been taking it easy for the past week. My guess is that you went around town today, handling your business as if you were never hurt to begin with," Dean speculated.

"And why shouldn't I?" Brooke countered. "When Dr. Copeland tells me that I'm back to normal, I expect there not to be any repercussions when I get a couple of things done." She sighed and attempted to sit straight. "He should've told me I wasn't _completely_ healed."

He crossed his arms over one another and shrugged. "Or maybe you shouldn't have overdone it today." When she fixed him with a lethal glare, a deep chuckle rumbled from his chest. He placed a gentle hand on her back. "Do you need me to carry you up the stairs?"

"No," she replied quickly, her eyes shooting to his a little too eagerly. "No, I'm okay, really."

The minute the words slipped from his mouth, he knew it was a mistake. Dean could literally feel it in the way the muscles on her back tensed at the suggestion. It was then when he remembered the reason why gratitude was never an easy emotion to exude. It made people uncomfortable simply because the gesture was completely out of the norm.

With an easy grin, he removed his hand from her back and pulled away from her, both physically and emotionally. "Okay, but that was your one and only chance to get me in your room. Don't say I never offered."

The happiness she felt slowly diminished as the distance between them continued to widen. Anxious to keep him within her reach, she grabbed his wrist and forced him to look at her. "We never got the chance to continue our conversation a couple of days ago."

The mere mention of that morning caught him off guard, and he was positive it showed on his face. Dean thought he'd successfully maneuvered himself away from that talk, but he should've known better. Brooke Davis didn't seem like the type to let things go so easily. So he offered her the infamous Winchester smile and cocked an eyebrow at her suggestively. "The conversation where you admitted you had the hots for me?"

She sighed patiently but kept her gaze locked on him. "Dean…"

"What?" he asked innocently. "That is what you were getting at that morning, wasn't it?"

"No, not exactly," she began. "I mean—come on. Be serious for a moment."

"I'm serious all the time, sweetheart," he drawled.

Brooke held his gaze a moment longer before shaking her head. She rose up from the seat and began making her way towards the stairs as quickly as she could. "You know what, forget it. Good night, Dean."

"Wait."

She stopped dead in her tracks at the gentle command. Her feet remained rooted to the ground, not allowing her to turn around and face him as she knew he wanted. Brooke had no idea why she felt the need to have this talk _now_. It wasn't like she wanted anything to happen between the two of them. Even as she told herself just that, the echoing timbers of Nathan's deep voice invaded her thoughts. _What makes you think you're happy?_

And there it was: the elephant in the room that refused to be mentioned between her friends. Brooke waited desperately for someone, _anyone_ to call her out on her current state of mind. She acted out of character, practically screaming in the inside to be heard, yet no one chose to acknowledge her suffering. No one but Nathan Scott. The same boy who'd half-carried her to the nurse's office in the third grade when she scraped her knee during recess. The same guy who threatened to beat up the entire varsity team his sophomore year for even _thinking_ about messing with his friend. The same Nathan Scott who subtly urged her to find happiness with his wife's big brother.

But happiness was hard to accept. Over the years, Brooke was so accustomed to keeping people at arm's length, never allowing them to get too close. Cos once that happened, attachment was soon to follow and the last thing she needed was to be disappointed when said loved one walked out of her life.

But things were different now, right? She was home in Tree Hill to start a new beginning and be rid of the cold-hearted, business minded woman she'd grown into. Brooke _wanted _to be happy and find love in any way, shape or form. Could Dean possibly be the answer to all her prayers? And more importantly, would she let him be her savior?

"You're right," he said slowly, not wanting to upset her anymore than he already had. "I'm attracted to you," he admitted easily.

She nodded her head and breathed a sigh of relief. "You can be such a dick," her raspy voice told him.

He smirked at her back. "Tell me something I haven't heard."

"Okay," she nodded. Brooke slowly turned to face him and delicately folded her arms over one another. With her walls firmly up in place, she said the only thing she could think of. "Attraction or not, nothing's gonna happen between us."

If he seemed surprised by her declaration, he hid it well. He took a moment to think the idea over then shook his head. "Nope, can't say I've heard that one. You win," he conceded.

"I'm serious, Dean."

The man didn't look fazed. "I never said you weren't."

Brooke took a moment to form the correct words in her head before she allowed them to pass through her lips. "I like you. I think you're a great guy, and I genuinely respect you—"

"Seriously?" he asked unimpressed. "I'm getting the _it's not you, it's me_ speech when all we've been doing is harmless flirting?"

"I just don't want to complicate this, okay?" she ignored his earlier interruption. "I need a friend right now, nothing more."

"And what gave you the impression that I was looking for anything but a place to stay?"

Brooke opened her mouth to speak but closed it just as quick when she found she had nothing to offer. "Then I guess that's settled." She gingerly made her way towards the staircase to retreat to her room. If her ribs were aching before, they were killing her now.

"Wait," he called out to her again. She braced a hand on the rail of the stairs and turned back one last time. Brooke caught him opening the freezer door only to retrieve an ice pack. He walked towards her and reached for her hand, putting the frozen bag in the center of her palm. "Place this on your ribs and go straight to bed," he demanded, not bothering to look at her as the words came out of his mouth.

He walked back towards the kitchen without giving her so much as a glance, the cords of his muscles on his back tense with agitation. Her face became grey with somberness as she made her way up to her room.

They both felt a sense of loss that was too great to describe. Had the door to a relationship been closed indefinitely? Maybe… maybe not. The roadblocks lay between them in flashing colors with hazard signs pointing them in every other direction. The skeletons in their closets were buried too deep to dig.

And when sleep finally managed to greet them that night, they both wondered how long it would take for them to stop running away from happiness.


	7. Packaged deal

_A/N: I deeply apologize for posting this so late. I revised this chapter A LOT before being satisfied with the turnout. Again, thank you all SO much for your kind reviews! It truly does inspire me (and ALL writers on , as well) to produce more chapters for you faster when we know we have people out there reading our stuff. So again, THANK YOU._

_Also, I noticed that a fair amount of you are fans of the Brathan friendship. If by chance you're just a fan of Brathan--PERIOD, I strongly suggest you read the story **The Game of Love**, and it's sequel **Her Perfect Family** written by madeinoctober. The stories are phenomenal and well written. **HPA** also includes Dean as well, so read it if you're interested. Her stories can be found under my favorite author's: madeinoctober. Thanks again!_

* * *

"Nah, I don't like it."

Haley groaned in frustration as she turned away from her brother. Beside her, Jamie hid a smile behind his fist, wiping it away completely when his uncle looked at him.

"What?" Dean asked, annoyance laced in his voice as he directed the question towards his baby sister.

She turned to look at him, truly amazed by his reaction to her impatience with him. "_What_?" she mimicked. "You can't be serious! This is the third apartment we've looked at this morning! What's wrong with _this_ one?" Haley shrieked, her hands sitting comfortably on her hips.

Jamie volleyed his attention between the two siblings, the grin on his face widening by the minute.

"It's on the _second floor_," he finally declared.

Her eyebrows drew together in the shape of a v, her impatience quickly turning into agitation. "_What_?" she questioned him sternly through clenched teeth.

"What if there's a fire?" Dean asked seriously. "You're telling me I have to run down a flight of stairs to get to safety? How logical is that?"

"You're a _cop_, you idiot!" she scolded him, smacking the side of his arm. "If there was a fire, you're first instinct should be to help others before you help yourself." Haley stopped mid tirade, disgusted with herself for carrying on this conversation. "What am I saying—what's _wrong_ with this apartment, Dean?" she repeated herself.

"It's ugly," Jamie answered for him.

"Jamie, not now."

"The kid's right!" Dean agreed as he nodded his head fervently, pointing at his nephew. "I mean, look at this dump," he spread his arms out wide and turned to survey the small living room they stood in. "It's crap."

"Language," the boy reminded his uncle.

"It's revolting," he corrected himself, never missing a beat. "Who would want to live here?"

"_This _is where Nathan and I lived after we got married," Haley replied instantly. "And when we were going through our problems, Brooke lived here with me." She shrugged her shoulders and shook her head. "So I don't see what's wrong with it."

"It's—"

"Jamie, zip it," Haley scolded her son.

Dean smirked apologetically at the kid and tried to find a suitable response to his sister's question. To be honest, there was nothing wrong with the place. It was a one-bedroom apartment with sufficient room for a bachelor like himself. The living room was spacious enough to fit two sofas and a dining room set. The kitchen was big enough to prepare meals for the small dinner parties he could throw. The balcony outside was a great place he could kick back after work with a cold bottle of beer. The apartment was damn near perfect.

But if he wanted to be honest with himself, it was nothing compared to Brooke's house.

The detective had a wraparound porch that overlooked the river with his current roommate. Her kitchen surely rivaled the likes of any other he'd seen. After all, she was notorious for the dinner parties she threw every Sunday night. It was her way of making sure everyone of her friends started off the workweek on a bright note, and it always worked. His room at her place was more inviting and comfortable, not to mention fully stocked with everything he could ever need. In the long run, her house felt like home.

"Dean!"

His sister's voice snapped him back to reality as he took in her angered expression. "I don't like it, Haley. It's as simple as that."

Jamie breathed a sigh of relief and tugged on his mother's hand. "Does that mean we can go now? I'm hungry."

Haley looked between her brother and son, refusing the urge to stomp her foot like a child. "Fine," she said. "I give up. From now on, if you want to go apartment hunting, don't ask me to come along," she told her brother, pointing a finger towards his face. "Because as of now? I'm done helping you."

She held her son's hand in her own and walked out of the apartment with Dean hot on her heels. "I don't know why you're so upset. Did I keep you from grading papers or something?" he asked nonchalantly as he followed her down the stairs. Haley tripped over her own foot, and Dean caught her arm in time to keep her from stumbling down the stairs. When she turned around to show gratitude, he raised his eyebrows at her and said, "See. I told you this whole second floor thing wouldn't work."

"Dean!" she screamed, finally fed up with him after the long morning they'd spent together.

"All right, okay," he attempted to soothe her nerves as they continued the walk towards his prized possession. His Chevy Impala sat beautifully in the parking lot, intimidating any and all cars that crossed its path. It attracted the attention of all who passed by her, appreciating the fine time, money and care he'd put into his baby.

Jamie looked up to his uncle and noticed the serene expression on Dean's face. He reached out and tugged on his fingertips, bringing the older man's attention to himself. "Look on the bright side Uncle Dean. If you can't find an apartment, you can always live in your car."

The comment brought a smirk to Dean's lips. He reached down and clasped the little boy's hand in his larger one, tugging him away from his amused sister. "Did I ever tell you you're my favorite nephew, kid?"

"I'm your _only _nephew," Jamie reminded him. Dean laughed as he opened the door on the passenger's side, ushering the boy inside. He stopped Haley from following by placing himself at the opening. His gaze softened as he took in the slightly annoyed look that seemed glued onto her angelic face.

"I'm sorry that I'm being so difficult," he apologized clumsily.

Her eyes widened at the words that tumbled out of his mouth. "Was that an apology, Dean Winchester?" Haley asked stunned.

Dean rolled his eyes and leaned an arm against the hood of his car. "Someone told me that I needed to mind my manners and start being a little more appreciative of the people around me," he shrugged.

Haley's eyebrows rose on their own accord. "Haven't I been telling you this all your life?" When he frowned at her, she corrected her earlier statement. "Okay, well—half your life. At least during the times when I actually saw that ugly mug of yours," she joked, moving to pinch his nose.

He quickly swatted her hand away and pointed a warning finger mid-air. "_Don't_ touch my face."

"Like I'm scared of you," she replied, crossing her arms over one another. "Who's this mystery person that's taught you how to act like a decent human being?"

"That's not important. What's important is that I'm sorry for being such a pain in the—"

"_Language_," Jamie stressed from inside the car.

"Behind," Dean finished his sentence. "I'll look for a place by myself from now on."

"No," Haley shook her head slowly. She calmed herself down and looked her brother squarely in the eye. "No, you don't have to do that. It's just… God, do you even know what you're looking for?"

It wasn't meant to be a loaded question, but it couldn't be answered simply. What _was_ Dean looking for? A place to stay? Some place else to make a home out of? He was sure he could make a living out of any apartment Tree Hill had to offer. He'd never been picky before moving back home and had even shared a dingy two-bedroom apartment on the outskirts of Brooklyn with his best friend back in New York City. He'd never been the type to fawn over tedious details, and the fact that he had such a hard time choosing a place to live spoke volumes.

If he was honest with himself, Dean could admit he wasn't ready to leave Brooke, plain and simple. It wasn't so much that he didn't think she could live on her own, what with her attacker still out on the lose. He'd miss the comfort of her company, no matter how eventful or silent it was. He'd grown to be dependent on having someone to come home to, regardless of the fact that the two were just friends. He'd had no problem being alone over the years, so the fact that he craved Brooke's presence day in and day out baffled him, rendering him speechless.

"I'm looking for a place to call home, baby sis," he answered smoothly, removing himself from the entrance into his vehicle. When she stood there patiently, regarding him under curious eyes, he shrugged. "Until I find a place that feels right, I'm not settling."

She continued to stare at him inquisitively, studying him as if he were one of her students and not her older brother. "Something's different about you, Dean. You're not the same brother who walked out of my life eight years ago—that's obvious. But… something's changed from the moment you came back and up until this very moment."

Dean stood there quietly, not wanting to say anything more while she psychoanalyzed him. He waited patiently for her to get in the car.

"You're not cold or distant as you were when I saw you at the hospital," Haley continued. "You're starting to mind your manners… you're _polite_," she snorted as she said the last part, earning a glare from her older brother. "Well, it's _true_. I'll ask again, what is it that's got you acting like a normal person?"

He shook his head again and cocked his head towards the open door of the Impala. "It's nothing, Haley. Maybe I'm just growing up."

"Maybe," she said finally after a pregnant pause at his words. Mirth danced behind her expressive eyes as she attempted to hide a smile. She walked past him and made her way into the car. "Or maybe I should be asking you _who_ it is that's got you acting like a _gentleman_?" she teased before he groaned and slammed the door in her face.

"All _right_!" Jamie laughed and put his hand in the air, prompting his mother to give him a high-five.

"What was that for?"

"You've seen the light!" he exclaimed in a hurry before Dean could make his way to the driver's side of the car. "You're officially on _Team Brooke for Uncle Dean_. Maybe my mission won't be so impossible with your help!" he said excitedly, rubbing the palms of his hands together with anticipation.

She laughed at her son and said nothing when Dean entered the car and looked at her questioningly. "You Scott people are _weird_," he said before shifting the car into reverse. He shook his head when his comment caused nothing but more laughter from Jamie and his mother.

* * *

Brooke answered the door and smiled brightly at her best friend. "P. Sawyer," she greeted the blonde woman as she pulled her into a hug. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?"

"Well, how about the fact that I feel like I haven't seen you in forever?" Peyton said as she removed her light coat, placing it over the arm of the sofa. She followed Brooke into the kitchen and took a seat by the counter. "I miss my best friend, and I was hoping we could spend the day together before we head out to that birthday party."

She was referring to little Robby Andrews party by the rivercourt that day. Brooke shuffled around the kitchen, taking out a bottle of water from the fridge and offering it to her friend. "That sounds like a good idea. I wanted to pick up a couple of stuff at the mall if you want to tag along," she told her friend.

Peyton nodded her head and began to rise from her seat. "I'm good to go whenever you are."

"Let me just grab my purse," she said as she headed towards the staircase. It felt a bit awkward hanging out with Peyton after the many days that passed. Sure, they saw each other whenever the whole gang got together, but the two best friends had never been alone since the night of Brooke's attack. She was a little upset with her friend for more reasons than she could count, and she had a feeling the blonde girl knew something was up. Still, none of that mattered at the moment. Spending time with Peyton was exactly what she needed to get her mind off her new roommate.

It had been four long yet peaceful days since their intense conversation Tuesday night. The following morning, Dean had prepared a simple breakfast for the two of them, and they made polite conversation before parting ways to start off their respective plans for the day. And for the rest of the week, they carried on as if nothing had changed when in fact, everything had.

Brooke must've taken longer than expected when she heard Peyton tap softly on her bedroom door. "Everything all right?" she asked hesitantly.

The brunette nodded her head vigorously. "Yeah, I was just… trying to figure out what kind of basketball jersey I should pick up for the party."

Peyton didn't believe a word of it, and the look on her face told her just as much. "Before we head out, can we talk?" she asked quietly. Not bothering to wait for the okay, the blonde woman walked straight into Brooke's domain and made herself comfortable on her bed. "It's just, I feel like we haven't had any time to ourselves lately," she smiled sadly. Peyton reached out and placed a hand on Brooke's forearm. "I miss my best friend."

Brooke mimicked the curve of her lips and nodded her head, patting her friend's hand on her arm. "I know what you mean," she said plainly. "I've missed you, too P. Sawyer."

"Then why won't you talk to me?"

Her brow furrowed together as the question caught her off guard. "What are you talking about?"

"You _know_ what I'm taking about, Brooke Davis," Peyton said gently but firmly. "You rarely take my calls anymore, and when I try to make plans for us to hang out, your either busy with everyone _else_ or you flake out on me last minute. What's that all about?"

She sighed patiently and moved to take a seat beside her. When Peyton withdrew her hand, Brooke clumsily clasped her fingers together on her lap, staring at the knots they made when linked together. She wasn't sure how to answer that question. If anything, talking to Peyton should be the easiest thing in the world for her. They were best friends—_sisters_ even. She'd never had a hard time baring her soul to the woman next to her. But how could Brooke tell her the real reason why she'd been keeping her distance? How could she explain to Peyton the anger she felt towards her without ruining their friendship?

"I know things have been different and difficult since Luke and I announced our engagement," Peyton began speaking again. "But I'm still here, and I'm still your best friend. You know you can come to me for anything," she reached out and placed a hand on Brooke's shoulder.

The woman in turn couldn't help but scoff at the declaration. "Right," she said sarcastically with a shake of her head.

"Brooke?" Peyton asked, obviously not prepared for her reaction.

She closed her eyes and attempted to keep the anger at bay, but she couldn't. The fact that Peyton had the audacity to claim she was there for her, when clearly she wasn't, unnerved Brooke to no end. "I don't want to fight with you, Peyton," she said in even tones.

"Well, I want you to _talk_ to me so if it includes fighting and yelling, then so be it," she said stubbornly.

"What is it with you?" Brooke hissed as she stood up, finally losing her temper. She glared at Peyton and continued on. "Do you always have to get your way?"

"Whoa, what's that supposed to—"

"I already said that I didn't want to fight with you, yet _here you are_—pushing the subject," Brooke carried on. "_Yes_, I've been avoiding you. _Yes_, I've been having a difficult time lately, but no—it didn't start once you and your precious Lucas decided you wanted to spend forever with one another. My life was falling apart _long_ before that, so newsflash Peyton—my every happiness does _not_ revolve around you."

"I never said it did!" Peyton defended herself. "God, what has gotten into you?"

"Me?" she asked incredulously. "I'm going through a hard time right now, Peyton. I'm holding on for _dear life_ trying to keep it together, and so what—I'm being a little picky with the company that I keep but—"

"_Picky?_ Seriously? I'm your _best _friend!—"

"Well, you could've fooled me," Brooke cut her off quietly and effectively. She stood her ground, even when Peyton's face paled at her words. She didn't allow the girl to speak as she continued on. "After everything that happened at Clothes over Bros, I needed my best friend more than anyone in the world." The rims of her eyes quickly coated with tears, but the wetness was too light to fall down her face. "I'd been brutally beaten to the point where I couldn't even take care of _myself_. I needed you there, Peyton. Not Nathan, not Haley—_you_. And the minute you come back from Vegas, the minute we're in the same room with one another, I have to find out that you're moving in with Luke?"

Peyton's eyes glazed over with tears. Her mouth formed circles around the words she tried to speak, but she failed miserably at offering an explanation. Brooke didn't need nor want one as she kept speaking.

"And to add insult to injury, I didn't even hear it from _you_, Peyton!" She didn't scream this last declaration but she shook her head from side to side, confusion marring the delicate curves of her face. "I could've cared less about you moving out of the house and in with Luke, honestly. But _immediately _after I'd been assaulted? You were still going to leave_ me—_your best friend who's done _nothing_ but constantly put you first?"

"I'm sorry," Peyton finally choked the words out. Her tears were solid proof of the guilt and torment she felt, and Brooke felt full of shame at the sight of it. _She'd_ done this. She'd reduced her best friend to tears when Brooke was the one who'd been hurt. The irony of the situation failed to amaze her because their roles were simple; Peyton would always be the victim while Brooke would never shake the part of the woman scorned. Five years later and sadly nothing had changed. "I knew I should've stayed here with you—I _wanted_ to stay here with you," she corrected herself. Peyton hung her head with shame when she realized there was no explanation for her actions.

Brooke shook her head sadly, her gaze wavering between her best friend and the space between them. "But Luke was too important to you."

"I didn't say that," Peyton began to argue.

"You didn't have to," Brooke replied just as easily. "I see it in your eyes." She held a hand in the air to thwart the onslaught of apologies threatening to spill from her lips. "You don't need to apologize. I'm not mad. I'm not mad anymore," she told her friend. "The two of you wasted enough time as it was, and I can't blame you for being eager to start your life with him," she spoke of the only man able to come between them.

"But you wouldn't have done the same," Peyton whispered disgracefully. Brooke remained quiet, unsure of what to say or feel. The fact that Peyton knew her well enough to know Brooke would've been by her side had the roles been reversed relieved her. But at the same time, her anger towards her friend was still too great and too strong to just forget. "I would've stayed with you, but Haley and Nathan had already offered—"'

Brooke shook her head sadly and stood from the bed. "You know, I'm really not looking for any explanations for something that just seems so unexplainable. Let's just… let's just forget about it," she sighed raggedly. She picked up her purse from the dresser and didn't bother turning to take another look at her friend. "I'll wait for you downstairs."

"Brooke," she stopped her, rising from the bed to stand perfect still as she waited for her best friend to turn and face her. When Brooke refused to look at her, she apologized one last time. "I'm sorry."

The brunette nodded her head and offered her profile in return. "So am I," she replied quietly.

"Are… are we gonna be okay?" Peyton asked timidly, afraid of the answer that awaited her.

Brooke closed her eyes and didn't hesitate to answer. "Sure. We'll be as good as new in no time." The smile left her voice when she turned to look at her friend, her stare unwavering as her eyes found hers. "But for now? We're just not."

* * *

"So, I hear you're almost as good as I am on the court."

Nathan turned around and came face to face with his infamous brother in law. Though the birthday party had a sports theme, he wasn't surprised to find Dean dressed in his signature leather jacket with a comfortable pair of jeans. The older man smirked as Nathan sized up his wardrobe. "Dude, I'm straight," he joked.

The youngest Scott brother laughed and motioned for Dean to follow him. "I used to be good. Until the accident, I was _this_ close to being drafted by the NBA," he said, measuring his fingertips a millimeter apart.

"Yeah, I heard about that," Dean nodded his head solemnly. "That must've sucked."

Nathan snorted and nodded his head. They made their way towards the beverages on one of the picnic tables, and Nate gestured to his wife's brother, his hand hovering over a bottle of water. When Dean nodded his head, he handed him the drink and carried on with the discussion. "Luke told me you taught him how to play when he was younger."

Dean chuckled before twisting the cap off the bottle and taking a greedy sip off the rim. "You don't want to know how horrible his jump shot was at ten, man."

"What was he shooting? Nothing but bricks?"

The older man shook his head sadly. "More like air balls galore." The two men laughed at the idea of Luke shooting horribly, both silently taking into account that this was the first real conversation they were having. Dean shifted his gaze from the basketball court to the _pin the tail on the donkey_ poster tacked to a nearby tree. Never one for subtlety, he dove head on into the conversation he'd been meaning to have with his sister's husband. "Has she been happy?"

The question went over smoothly with Nathan as he looked towards his wife and son. "Yes, she has," he answered honestly. He returned the wave both Haley and Jae gave to him, smiling in return at the two basketball moms. "I won't lie to you, though," he continued as his eyes remained glued on his wife. "There have been times when she's needed her older brother, and I would've given anything to bring you to her if I could."

Dean nodded his head, his gaze quickly landing on Brooke as she emerged from Peyton's car. The two girls looked the farthest thing from friendly as they quickly parted ways the closer they came to the court. Brooke found her way towards his sister and crouched low to give his nephew a hug. "But she's been okay?" he repeated, not ready to be lectured by a boy four years his junior.

Nathan sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. He took a glance toward Dean and wasn't surprised to find him looking solely at his best friend. "Yeah, she's been okay. But Brooke's another story." His eyes remained trained on the woman across the park as the man next to him fidgeted uncomfortably. Nathan could feel his eyes twitch towards his direction and did nothing to acknowledge his discomfort. "She's been through a lot, and I'm not just talking about what happened at her store. She's emotionally fragile, but she refuses to let anyone see it."

"I don't see what this has to do with—"

"Except for you," Nathan stated, finally turning to give his brother in law a good look. He nodded at the confused expression on his face before dismissing it completely with the following words. "I can see the way she looks at you, and maybe I can't hear the hushed conversations you have on the side but…"

"Look man, we're just friends," Dean began to explain before Nathan could go on. "Whatever you're thinking is going on between the two of us, it's nothing."

"Really?" Nathan asked unconvinced. "Says who? You or Brooke? Cos if the answer is the latter of the two, then you've got a lot to learn, bro." He lightly punched Dean on the shoulder, immediately eliciting a glare from the Winchester.

"Don't touch me ever again," he warned sternly.

Nathan's smile awkwardly faded from his face as he nodded his head twice. "Yeah," was his only response as he quickly walked away.

Across the park, Brooke was caught up in a conversation with both Haley and Jae when her cell phone rang, interrupting the three from babbling about their respective kids. Haley was proudly gushing to the other mom about Brooke's selfless act of taking care of baby Angie when the intrusion began. She smiled apologetically at the two mothers before retrieving the device from her bag. Her eyebrows drew together in confusion as a number she didn't recognize flashed onto her screen. She quickly excused herself and without another thought, she picked up the call and placed the phone to her ear. "Brooke Davis," she said into the mouthpiece.

"_Slut_."

Brooke instantly breathed a sigh of relief and closed her eyes, the response leaving her mouth automatically. "_Bitch_."

Rachel Gattina laughed breathlessly into the phone and sighed as well. "Good to know you're still talking to me."

"Rachel," she said into her phone, relieved to be in contact with her good friend. "Where are you?"

"I'm sorry, Brooke," Rachel replied after a moment's pause. She held back the tears but the sadness was laced into every word that fell from her lips. "I'm so sorry. I should've told you before I left. I just… I had to get out of that house. Your mom was breathing down my neck, calling me a failure and a junkie and—"

"Rachel, it's okay. We can talk about all that later," Brooke reassured her friend. "Are you all right?"

"I'm better than that," Rachel said proudly. "I'm in rehab."

She was shocked to say the least. Her mouth opened and closed around the words she wanted to say, but no sound came out of her mouth. Thankfully, Rachel continued speaking, prompting her silence.

"After that confrontation with your mom, I'll admit it. The first thing I wanted to do was take a hit, you know? I know your mom's a bitch, but there was a lot of truth in the words she spoke, and I couldn't ignore that. I… I realized that I didn't want to be that person anymore. I didn't wanna be the _loser junkie _that everyone saw when they looked at me. I wanted to clean up, I wanted to be better," she admitted.

Realization dawned upon Brooke as she put the pieces of the puzzle together. "You took my money and checked yourself into rehab," she figured it out. All this time, she knew there was something off about her friend's disappearance. Back in New York, 

Rachel begged her for help. She'd heard this speech before, and it didn't seem right that Rachel would steal her money and leave. She didn't want to believe it at first, and now, she found her instincts to be validated. Rachel Gattina wasn't a failure; she was a survivor in every sense of the word.

"I know I should've left a note or something," her friend continued, "but to be honest, I wasn't sure I was going to do it at first. I had the taxi man drive me around for a bit before I made the decision to check myself in. It was by far the hardest thing I've ever had to do in my life, but I had to do it. For me."

Brooke's heart swelled as she listened to her sober friend on the other line. She was immensely proud of her for taking the first steps in getting her life back on track. No one pushed her, no one told her to go to rehab—she'd made the decision to clean up all on her own. Victoria may have had a hand in pushing her towards the right direction, but the fact of the matter was, Rachel was getting help. Brooke couldn't be happier for her one-time nemesis. "Rachel, I'm so proud of you."

"I thought you would be," the redhead said as a matter of fact. "I'm pretty proud of myself, too."

"Why didn't you call me and tell me where you were? We were worried about you."

Rachel shook her head from her side of the line, even though she knew Brooke couldn't see her. "The facility is very strict on us having no contact with anyone for the first month. No calls, no visitors."

"I'm sure you could've written me a letter or something," Brooke pressed on.

"Right. Tomorrow you'll get a letter from me apologizing for being a complete junkie and swiping thousands of dollars from you," she said sarcastically. "A letter didn't feel right. I needed to say what I had to say over the phone since I couldn't do it in person. I wanted to do it sober." Brooke nodded her head, realizing that her friend was right. Rachel spoke up once again. "Besides, my counselor suggested that I keep a journal to _vent out my frustrations_, but you know me. I'm never one to do things the proper way. Instead of baring my soul on a harmless piece of paper, I wrote each passage in a letter format to you."

Brooke was rendered speechless if only for a second. "Me? Why me?"

Rachel rolled her eyes as she twisted the phone cord in her hand. "Really? You're trying to make me get all sappy and emo? Who do you think you're talking to, Peyton?"

She felt a pang of sadness at the mention of her so-called best friend. Her eyes unconsciously found the blonde woman, and she wasn't surprised to find Luke consoling her, holding her in a tight embrace. A sigh escaped her parted lips as she turned her back towards the couple, directing her full attention to the slut on the other line.

"Wow," Rachel continued after the silence threatened to stretch on. "No defense for attacking your best friend? That's a first," she said coyly. "Don't tell me you've finally put little miss obsessive in her place?"

Brooke smiled both at Rachel's words and at the man who swaggered towards her. "Be nice, Rach."

"Never," she said evilly. She paused momentarily, her hand covering the mouthpiece of the phone for a second or two. "As much as I love berating you and your friends, they're telling me I've used all my family minutes."

"Okay," Brooke said, her voice betraying the emotions she felt.

Rachel laughed on her end of the phone and pulled her hair to the side. "Don't sound so pathetic, Davis. I get phone privileges every night now that I've stepped up in the program. You'll be hearing a lot more from me, unfortunately for you."

The brunette smiled and nodded her head. "I'm glad to hear it. Take care of yourself, Rachel."

She opened her dirty mouth in hopes of ridding their parting of any sentimental value but thought better of it at the last minute. S he closed her eyes and tipped her chin downward, a small genuine smile forming on her lips. "I will. Brooke?"

"Hmm?"

"I… thank you. For everything. I probably wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you so… thank you. For saving me," she said sincerely.

"You're welcome," Brooke replied softly. "I love you. Fatass."

The hearty laugh Rachel gave was music to Brooke's ears. "Love you, too. Bitch."

She hung up the phone then, the sound of her friend's laughter ringing in her ears. It was good to know that Rachel was alive and safe and taking the first steps into turning her life around. She couldn't have been any more proud of her nemesis-turned-best friend.

"That looked like an important phone call," Dean guessed as he made his way to her.

A thought struck Brooke and instantly, it seemed as if she weren't even listening to the man who stood before her. She stared off into the distance, her forehead crinkled in confusion. "I save people," she said blankly.

He cocked an eyebrow at her and tried to understand what she was getting at. Maybe the guy who knocked her around a bit must've hit her a little too hard on the head. "Am I supposed to know what you're talking about?"

"I save people," she repeated again, turning to face him. She shook her head at the idea and let out a little laugh. "That's what I do. I'm a people saver."

Dean remained perplexed. "…Okay. Whatever makes you happy."

She playfully pushed him away from her and took note of the shy smile that momentarily lit up his face. "You're making fun of me," she softly pouted.

"I can't help it," came the immediate response. "You make it too easy." He shook the smile of his face after she rolled her eyes at him. "I _am_ interested in that whole _saving people_ complex you've got going on, though."

"Cut it out," she laughed while pushing him aside once more.

"What? I'm being serious. What did you mean when you said you were the _people saver of the future_?"

Brooke glared at his choice of words and folded her arms against her chest. They were strolling leisurely away from the party, yet she didn't feel the need to guide them in the right direction. They walked towards an abandoned picnic table directly by the river. When she moved to sit on top of the table, her feet resting neatly on the bench seats, he followed suit and followed her gaze to the water.

"When I took care of Angie," she started, "I had a hard time letting her go. Luke came to see me the night I took her to the airport, and he told me that I save people." She brought her hazel eyes to his hazel green ones, and shrugged. "I saved Angie by agreeing to take care of her so she could have this life-saving surgery. I fixed Peyton's life by investing in her dreams and pushing her to jumpstart her own record label. Years ago, I saved Luke from letting his break up with Peyton consume him by suggesting that he focus on publishing the best book he possibly could. I saved Haley and Nate's marriage too many times to count, and _now_… now I've saved Rachel from killing herself with her drug addiction."

Brooke brought her eyes towards the water once more and knew this time Dean didn't mimic her movements. "I save people," she quietly repeated herself, shaking her head at the role she always came back to in the inner circle.

Dean didn't know what to say at first. Judging by the way she'd been closing herself off from the rest of the gang, he was certain this was the first time she was speaking of her ability to rescue them from themselves. "Do you not want to do that anymore?"

Her attention flew to him so suddenly that for a second, he felt as if she forgot he was there. Brooke blinked in surprise, her lips parting slightly as she thoughtfully took a moment to think the question over. Finally, with her trademark, somber smirk, she offered him the only answer she could. "It's my role, Dean. It's what I do."

"Well, who says you gotta keep doing it?" he asked earnestly, shrugging his shoulders while leaning his head towards her. "Your friends are adults. They're all responsible for their own actions, and if you ask me, they shouldn't be leaning on you to clean up their messes."

She was silent for a minute before shaking her head at his assumptions. "That's the thing, though; they _don't_ lean on me. I'm just there to help when I can."

"Okay," he nodded his head. "Then, maybe you're the one enabling everyone."

Brooke reared her head back as if she'd been physically slapped. "Excuse me?"

Dean's eyebrows arched up towards his forehead and he shrugged again. "Peyton didn't ask you to help her with the label, but you went in and assisted her anyway. I'm sure my sister and her husband would've been able to find their way back to each other _without_ your help and Luke… well, he's always been a crybaby, so I can't say anything about you helping him."

Though she wanted to smile at his observation of her ex-boyfriend, Brooke was still wounded by his earlier comment on herself. "So, you think I enable my friends?"

"I don't know what I think," he answered simply. "I'm just an innocent bystander with a big mouth." That line won him a small smirk, for which he was grateful. Dean in no means set out to offend his roommate, and he was glad that she didn't take his words to the heart. "But seriously? I think you and your 'saving' complex are pretty awesome," he quoted his fingers in the air around the word.

Her smirk quickly morphed into a shy smile as she began nodding her head as a thought struck her. "That's right; I forgot to mention that I saved your sorry ass from being homeless, too."

Dean laughed shortly at her immodesty and shook his head. "You didn't save my ass from anything. You badgered me into moving in with you. It's not like I had any choice in the matter."

"You ungrateful pig," she shook her head at him. Though her words were harsh, the smile that refused to leave her face softened the insult, rendering it nonexistent to the two of them.

"Whatever. If anyone's an ungrateful pig, it's you."

"ME?" she yelled, sitting straight up. "How could you say that?"

"Well, here I am… working fourteen hour shifts just to find out who went and tossed you around and invaded your store, and I don't even get so much as a _Thanks, Dean_," he said jovially.

"Oh, please," she pushed him away with a breathless laugh. "I feed you and clean up after you," she reminded him. "So don't call _me_ the ungrateful _pig_."

"You're right. Maybe pig was a wrong choice in words," he agreed, never once meeting her eyes. He could feel her fuming beside him and bit back a snort that threatened to escape from his mouth. Then he went and pictured her pretty little face scrunched up with annoyance and began to shake with his suppressed laughter.

When he turned to look at Brooke, he was surprised to find her smiling at him, shaking her head in mock disapproval. "Have I told you lately—"

"How big of an ass I am?" he finished her question, complete with a matching smile that rivaled the brightness of her own. "Not since breakfast, no."

"Yeah, well now you're infuriating," she nudged his shoulder with her own.

"Whatever. You still think I'm hot," he replied in feigned aggravation. The two laughed at the silliness of their conversation.

"Somebody seriously needs to deflate that ego of yours, Detective Dean," Brooke advised him.

A smile brightened his face as he pointed at his roommate. "Well, then I propose you do it. You are the savior of your people." He paused when she let out a small chuckle. "So save me."

"Not on your life," she told him, letting out a full laugh this time. He joined in soon after, and pretty soon, the two found themselves enjoying the other's company in complete silence. There was no need for words as they sat quietly, appreciating the calmness of the scenery before them. The kids screamed and ran yards away behind them, but the two remained oblivious to it all.

"If I hadn't already said it… thank you… _hero_," she said begrudgingly to the officer of the law by her side.

He nodded his head without turning to look at her. "Anytime, Princess."

Her eyebrows shot up against their own will. She regarded him with curious eyes and repeated his last word. "Princess?"

Dean shrugged while the corner of his mouth hitched up in sync with his body motions. "It was either that or pig." When she raised her fist to sock him in retaliation, he held up his hands to thwart the attack. "Need I remind you that it's against the law to assault a police officer?"

"Sleep with one eye open," she said immediately in response. Dean could only laugh at the comment, prompting Brooke to do the same.

"Sorry to interrupt you two, but I wanted to make the introductions before the games got started," Nathan said as he walked up to the two with Jae at his side. "You already know Brooke, but this is Haley's brother, Dean Winchester. Dean, this is Jane Andrews."

"Of course," Dean stood up and nodded politely. "Mother of the birthday boy, right?" he asked as he offered the young mother his hand. "Some party you have here."

Jae nodded graciously and retrieved her hand from his handshake. "Thank you. It's nice to know all the hard work I've put into this event hasn't gone unnoticed."

"Are you kidding me?" Brooke asked with a wrinkle on her forehead. "You've got relay races, contests, games, great food, good music and a jumper for the kids." Her tone remained impressed as she placed her hands on her hips. "I'm not a kid and even I'm having fun."

Nathan nodded his head in agreement. "And the CEO of Clothes Over Bros is not all that easy to impress," he added.

"Unless, of course, you're name just so happens to be Dean Winchester," the cop added smugly. Nathan and Jae laughed at his fabricated arrogance while Brooke shook her head and rolled her eyes.

"Please, don't encourage him," she told the two.

"They can't help it," Dean continued. He winked at Jae and drawled, "I'm amazing."

"You're also Jamie's _Uncle_ Dean… right?" Jae asked with a curious twinkle in her eye. She shot her gaze towards Brooke and stifled a laugh at the alarmed expression on her face.

"Guilty as charged," he replied, not missing the look between the two women. "I see Ms. Davis here has been talking about me again." He grinned lazily at Brooke, failing to hold in his laughter when she shoved him away from her.

"I need a needle to pop that ego of yours," she said disapprovingly, though her tone was anything but harsh.

"Needle? More like an axe," Nathan added. When Dean glared at him, the younger man shrugged and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "It sounded funny in my head."

While the foursome laughed at Nathan's transparent fear towards Dean, they failed to notice the arrival of Jamie's other favorite uncle until he spoke. "Brooke, can I talk to you?"

They turned to find Luke standing a few feet away with a determined expression set on his face. "Luke…"

Sensing the tension between the two, Jae stepped in to play peacemaker. "Actually, Brooke… I was coming over to ask you for your help with the potato sack race."

Brooke smiled appreciatively at her new friend and nodded her head, prepared to make herself available to the young mother.

Luke, however, wouldn't take the hint. "I'm sorry, Brooke. This can't wait," he said firmly.

The fashionista blinked her eyes in surprise, hoping desperately that Jae's intervention would save her from a screaming match she didn't feel privy to participating in. Imagine her surprise when Dean spoke up beside her.

"Actually, I'm sure that it can, Lucas." Detective Dean quickly replaced her friendly roommate, and Brooke found herself blinking once more as she witnessed the confrontation. "It's a birthday party, and if Jae needs our help, we're gonna help her. You can talk to her later," he said nonchalantly, yet his tone carried much intimidation.

"_Our_ help?" Luke couldn't help but repeat. "I don't remember hearing her ask for your assistance."

Dean smirked at his long time friend and grabbed Brooke's hand. He tucked it firmly into the crook of his elbow and began to walk back towards the party with her by his side. "Since when did you take me for the kind of guy who only helps when asked?" he asked pointedly. As they walked closer towards his sister's best friend, he couldn't help but continue. "Besides, we're a packaged deal. I go wherever she goes."


	8. Used to be the one

"I asked you not to make a big deal out of this, Luke."

Lucas turned around and came face to face with his current fiancé, the scowl from moments before still plastered across his own face. The look softened when he took in her tortured expression. Wordlessly, he opened his arms to her, and she stepped in willingly. His hand cupped the back of her head, pulling her tighter into his embrace. "I wasn't intending to. I just wanted to talk to her myself."

Peyton remained motionless in his arms, her eyes shut as he swayed them from side to side. "I know, but why? She's upset, and she's not going to talk to me until she calms down."

"Well, maybe I can speed up the process in the meantime," he told her, releasing her from his grip. His hand instinctively moved to the side of her neck, his long fingers wrapping around her delicate skin. "She's _our_ friend," he reminded her softly.

"Yes, but she's _my_ best friend," Peyton countered.

"Right, and had the roles been reversed? You'd be doing the exact same thing, and you know it."

Peyton sighed at his assertion, her head slumping downwards in defeat. If Haley and Luke had a falling out, she would assign the role of mediator to herself and try to mend the fences for the man she loved and his best friend. Still, she couldn't shake the feeling that the altercation she witnessed from across the park had very little to do with her. "That conversation with Dean looked pretty intense from where I stood."

Luke scoffed and averted his eyes from her line of vision. His gaze unintentionally fell on both Brooke and Dean… and the casual arm he'd slung across her shoulders. "And just where were you standing?" he asked.

"A good distance away," Peyton answered, rubbing her hands down the length of his arms. "I could practically feel the tension between you two from across the park."

He shook his head and stared at the blonde beauty before him. "It was nothing." When Peyton did nothing but raise her eyebrows, he sighed and broke away from her. Luke reached down to grasp her hand and guided them towards their group of friends. "He's very protective of Brooke."

She laughed at this and searched his eyes to see if he was serious. "Isn't that a good thing? Brooke needs someone to take care of her, and from the looks of it, he's doing a pretty damn good job."

Luke silently nodded his head and tried desperately not to react to the way Brooke leaned into the curve of Dean's arm, resting her head on his shoulder as they followed Nathan and Jae towards the potato sacks. "I'm just saying…"

"…saying what?"

"He shouldn't be so defensive towards her friends," he quickly explained. "The guy doesn't even know why I wanted to talk to her or what I was going to say. He should've just minded his own business."

Luke continued walking, never once noticing the way Peyton fell behind at the abrasiveness coated on his voice. Instantly, her worry transferred from the deteriorating friendship with her best friend, to the not-so-solid impending future with the love of her life.

* * *

"So that was a nice thing you did back there."

Dean shrugged and withdrew her hand from the crook of his elbow. Smoothly, he wrapped his arm around her, his hand dangling lightly in the air past her shoulder. "What can I say? I'm full of surprises."

She nodded her head, the smile on her lips not quite reaching her eyes. "That you are, Dean Winchester." Her attention quickly flew to the twosome walking ahead of her. Jae and Nathan were in a heated debate over the best all time player of the NBA. Never in her life had she seen a woman so passionate about basketball. One thing was certain; the girl would definitely fit into their inner circle.

"You wanna talk about it?" Dean quietly asked beside her.

Brooke groaned softly and lulled her head onto his shoulder dramatically. "If I don't talk about it, can we pretend it never happened?"

"Sure," he said, resting his cheek on the top of her head momentarily. "But you know I'm just gonna bother you about it later, so you might as well tell me now."

She pinched him on the side and felt satisfaction when he yelped in reaction. "You're such a punk."

"Then, _why_ do you keep me around?" he joked, pulling her closer into a headlock as they got closer to Nathan and Jae. Brooke squeezed his sides once more, startling him enough to loosen the hold he had on her head. She wiggled free with little effort and sprung forward, determined to put the detective in his place—party or no party.

"You _better_ run!" she yelled after him as he circled a picnic table to keep himself safe from harm. She knew they must've made quite the scene to both the adults and kids of the party, but none of that mattered. She was hell bent on evening the score and just as determined to make her roommate pay for messing up her hair.

As if he'd read her mind, he pouted and placed his hands on his hips. "I don't see why you're so upset. Your hair was a mess before I even touched it."

And with those last words, he ran for his life… knowing very well that the punishment would be worth the look on her face.

Across the park, Jae picked up a potato sack and frowned in the direction her new friends had run off to. "How hard is it to find a decent pair of hands to help me in this town?" she said jokingly.

"Hello?" Nathan asked, clearly offended as he waved his hands in the air. "What do you think these are?"

She shook her head from one side to the other and laughed at Jamie's father. "Present company excluded of course."

"Of course," he mocked her, placing a hand over his chest. His eyes followed Brooke as she chased his brother in law around the park. He took note of the genuine smile on her face. Though a part of him was glad that she was opening up to another man, Nate couldn't ignore the nagging feeling in his gut that told him she wasn't out of the clear just yet. Her earlier confrontation with Luke was a big indication of what was to come—that he was sure of.

"They're cute together," Jae observed from afar. He looked towards her and realized that they'd both been looking after the twosome with matching grins on their faces. Brooke had finally caught up to Dean after the man had tripped over his own two feet. She launched herself on top of him, moving frantically to grip his hands between her own before he maneuvered his way out of her hold.

"He makes her happy," he agreed.

Jae raised her eyebrows and studied them more before a light smile graced her own lips. "Looks to me like she does the same for him."

At her analysis, Nathan took a closer look at Dean with suspicious eyes. For the first time, it seemed like Dean had his guard fully down. He looked as if he was allowing himself to be happy, carefree and have fun. He lacked the sour face expression that seemed permanently stamped on his face. His eyes lit up in a way he'd never seen before. "Well, I'll be damned," he muttered underneath his breath.

Jae snorted at the epiphany that he had, and they laughed at her unladylike mannerisms. "What's the matter?" she pressed on after the moment passed them by. "Don't tell me you have some secret crush on your son's godmother?"

"What? No!" Nathan reassured her instantly. "It's nothing like that. She's been a good friend to all of us throughout the years. It's just nice to see someone making her feel the same way Haley makes me feel."

Jae smiled sadly, shaking her head when Dean had Brooke pinned underneath him. She squealed relentlessly as his fingers dug into her sides repeatedly, causing Brooke to beg him for mercy. "I know what you mean," she said gently.

He mentally kicked himself in the ass for his insensitive slip up. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"Oh, don't you dare apologize for being loved by your wife," she told him sternly. "It's a blessing to share your life with someone who accepts you and loves you for you. Someone who stands by you when you can't even stand the person you are," she said sadly. "Don't ever apologize for that."

Nathan paused for a moment, taking her words into consideration. "He sounds like a great guy." When she gave him a curious look, he elaborated his thought. "Your husband," he commented. "I'm assuming you were talking about him."

She nodded her head as the corners of her lips pulled tightly at the ends. "Tommy," Jae referred to her husband, "was my everything before Robby was born. And I was an impossible girlfriend at times, but he never left my side. He was the most patient man I've ever known, even to this day."

Subconsciously, he reached out and placed a consoling hand on her shoulder, massaging the skin beneath his fingers as he offered as much comfort as he could. "I'm sorry he's gone," he offered politely.

Jae blinked back unshed tears as she nodded her head vigorously. She sought her son out of the crowd and her eyes remained riveted to the little boy. "Yeah," she breathed out. "I'm sorry my son has to grow up without his father."

The thought struck a chord in Nathan's heart as he moved his gaze from the woman before him to his own son. The thought of Jamie growing up without his father literally broke his heart. He could only imagine how Haley would carry on had she suffered the same fate as the single mother. Jae was absolutely right; each and every day with both Haley and Jamie was a blessing in which he was forever grateful.

Nathan decided then and there that he needed to show his family just how thankful he was for the both of them.

* * *

"Are you two done molesting each other yet?" Haley asked both her brother and best friend.

Brooke's mouth hung open at her words while Dean appeared to think the question over. "I don't know. What time is it?" he asked seriously.

Nathan, Haley and Jae laughed at the annoyed expression on Brooke's face. The pink of her cheeks deepened to a darker shade once she became the butt of the joke. She glared at Dean—a face she'd been making towards him _a lot_ lately—and sulked under his dancing eyes. "Keep it up and all your stuff will be out on the street before the night is over."

He didn't seem a bit perturbed by her threat. "You wouldn't do that to me," Dean said without doubt.

"Oh, I _would_," she reassured him vehemently.

"Guys, can we pause this lover's quarrel and get down to the business at hand?" Nathan asked unapologetically. Before Dean could send death glares his way, he turned to Jae. "Do you want me to get everyone's attention?" he asked helpfully. When she nodded her head yes, he turned away from the group and cupped his hands over his mouth, his fingers forming a makeshift megaphone. "Listen up grownups! We're having a contest for the adults so all who want to participate or watch, come on down!"

"Nice, sweetie," Haley said sarcastically as she grinned at her husband. "That's the way to get them over."

"Don't tease him," Dean scolded his sister, coming to Nathan's defense. He cocked his head towards the direction of the parents that were making their way over to the group. "He got the job done."

Haley rolled her eyes while her husband nodded his head appreciatively at his brother in law. "Thanks, man."

Dean smiled back in return. "Don't get used to it."

Brooke scoffed from beside him and slapped his shoulder softly with the back of her hand. "Would it kill you to be a bit nicer?"

"Yes," he answered gravely.

The group, Nathan included, laughed at his answer just as Peyton and Luke made their way to the forefront. "What's so funny?" Peyton asked.

"Oh, you know, the usual," Haley informed her friends. "Dean's picking on Nathan."

"You still haven't let up on that?" Peyton asked after she chuckled at the idea.

"Nah. It's too much fun."

"Yeah, well, it's getting old," Luke declared.

Everyone was surprised by the attitude that carried his words to their ears. Brooke blinked in astonishment while Haley looked as if she'd been physically slapped. Peyton's eyes shot up to her fiancé's instantly, and Jae looked like a deer caught in headlights. Nathan shook his head at his brother's plain resentment for Brooke's roommate. However, Dean kept perfectly still until his lips formed a slow, lazy grin. "Well, I don't hear anyone complaining. Do you?"

Luke found himself in a quandary that he'd set himself up for. If he carried on, the conversation would definitely turn into a scene that would cause many—if not all—of his friends to come down on him. If he acquiesced to Dean, the older man will have won.

"I'm not," Nathan answered jovially. When Luke glared at him, he returned the look with a firm shake of his head. He mouthed the words _knock it off_ to his big brother, sighing only when Lucas rolled his eyes. "Jae, why don't you explain the competition?"

Jae clapped her hands once and smiled at the mob of parents before her. "All right everyone. Now that the kids have had their fun, I've put together a little contest for the grownups. In my hand, I hold three small ropes for three teams. It's your typical relay race with a slight twist." She waved her hand behind her as if she were modeling an expensive sports car. "You've gotta find your way through the obstacle course."

The crowed fawned over the not so difficult obstacle before them. The teams would have to maneuver their way around a picnic table, weave through a set of orange cones and end the race by pacing themselves through netted squares that were raised six inches from the ground. The older parents all fought over who would be the first to participate before coming to the conclusion that the group of friends should give it a shot.

"We're too old to be falling over ourselves," one parent joked while the others agreed happily.

At the instance of the mob before them, the small group began making teams.

"Brooke, why don't you team up with Peyton?" Luke suggested, never being one for subtlety.

"Lucas…" Peyton started.

"Sorry, Peyton," Dean cut in slickly. He hooked an arm around Brooke's waist and pulled her to his side. "She's stuck with me whether she likes it or not."

"Something tells me she likes it," Nathan joked while Brooke tried her best not to blush.

She turned her face into Dean's shoulder so only he could hear her hushed words. "There you go again, saving me in just the nick of time."

He tightened his grip on her waist, emitting a small gasp from the woman who stood partially in his arms. "What can I say? You're not the only hero in Tree Hill now, are you?"

She preened under his teasing eyes, the glow on her cheeks deepening only when he smiled at her.

"Well, family or not, we're taking you down," Haley said smoothly as she wrapped an arm around Peyton's shoulder. The blonde woman smiled appreciatively at her friend for saving her from embarrassment.

"Great, so who am I gonna be partnered up with?" Nathan asked his wife.

All eyes automatically turned to Lucas. His eyes widened when he realized their intentions and he backed away with the palms of his hands facing his friends. "Don't look at me."

"Why don't you partner up with Jae?" Brooke asked.

"I can't," she said sadly. "Who'll be the judge if I participate?"

"I'll do it," Luke offered readily. "How hard can it be to stand here and declare a winner?"

Jae didn't seem convinced. "I don't know you guys. I don't feel right entering my own contest."

"Oh, be quiet," Nathan hushed her protests. "Come on, live a little. Unless you just don't want to be paired with the most sexiest competitor," he said, rubbing a hand down his chest. "If that's the case, I completely understand."

The group laughed while Dean stared at his brother in law as if the man had just grown another head. "I think he's serious," he whispered vehemently to the woman he held onto. Brooke's own chuckle deepened at her friend's analysis.

"Maybe I just don't want to be paired with the crippled," Jae replied lively, her eyes twinkling in mischief as she jabbed a finger into his chest. The girls giggled at the insult, and Dean let out a low whistle in reaction.

"Well, _this_ cripple is gonna help you win the race. So what do you say?" Nathan asked her, his arms spread apart.

The woman in question volleyed her attention from one friend to another. Finally, she sagged her shoulders in defeat and acquiesced to his request. "Fine, I'll join. But if I end up looking like a total ass on the field, I'm caking you later."

"Promise?" Dean inquired happily.

"Let's get started already!" Haley pushed the group. Everyone cheered in response and the three teams used the rope to tie their legs together by the ankle.

"I hope being paired with the detective will pay off," Brooke said coyly.

Dean shook his head as he fastened the knot on the rope. "Yeah, well, let's hope your coordination isn't restricted to the clothes on your back," he teased in response.

She threw her head back and let out a loud laugh, surprising everyone that lined up to start off the race. "Can you please stop hitting on her for more than five minutes so we can get this thing started?" Haley asked her brother.

Before he had time to react, Luke sounded off the blow horn that signaled that the race had begun. When he turned his eyes to glare at the guy, Lucas smirked in response. "Come on!" Brooke urged her partner when she realized he wasn't moving.

They were a few feet behind but managed to catch up easily as they ran in sync towards the picnic table. Nathan and Jae struggled happily as the smaller woman seemed to hold up a lot of his weight. When Dean and Brooke zoomed past them, they could hear her scream jokingly out to the two teams ahead of them. "I _told_ you guys I didn't want to be stuck with the handicap one!"

Brooke couldn't help but laugh, throwing the two of them off balance as they struggled to find their footing. Ahead of them, Haley and Peyton were halfway through the orange cones, the crowd of both adults and kids cheering them on. "This is ridiculous!" Dean exclaimed through his own laughter as they continued to stumble over their feet. "I should've left you with Peyton!"

Brooke was laughing so hard she couldn't catch her breath. Finally, her free foot collided with his and they tumbled to the ground, their limbs tangled within one another. They couldn't control their laughter as Brooke lay on top of him, her free leg wedged in between his two legs. Her forehead rested on his chest and her chuckles continued as her head bounced off his rumbling skin.

"I can't believe you said that," she scolded him as she attempted to regulate her breathing.

"It's true!" Dean insisted from beneath her. "I'm too old for this crap."

"Oh, _please_," she said as her laughter finally began to die down. Brooke looked up as Nathan and Jae hobbled past them, the two trying desperately to run in coordination towards the end zone.

"Talk about sweeping a girl off her feet!" Nathan taunted the two as they zoomed past as fast as they could.

"You already lost, dude!" Dean yelled after him, the victory screams of the two girls reaching them from afar. "Give it up already!"

Brooke couldn't shake the smile from her face is she tried. She folded her arms on top of his chest and peered down at him, happiness glowing all over her face. "Thanks."

His eyebrows rose high on his forehead. "For?"

She bobbed her head from side to side as she thought of an appropriate answer. When Brooke brought her attention back to him, her eyes glimmered with contained delight. "For not leaving me with Peyton."

His small smile lit up his face as he nodded his head beneath her. "Anytime."

They stayed like that for a moment, their bodies pressed against one another as the silence loomed on. Brooke became nervous once she realized how close their faces were towards one another. If he raised his head just a little bit higher, or if she lowered her lips just an inch down…

"Are you gonna kiss her or not, Uncle Dean?" Jamie asked from a few feet away. The kid tapped his foot impatiently as he waited for them to notice he was there. "Cos seriously—that'd be an _awesome_ birthday present!"

Dean struggled to bring his gaze towards his nephew. Once he took in the boy's smiling, eager face, he shook his head in awe, mesmerized by his nephew's bluntness. "It's not your birthday, kid."

Jamie shrugged nonchalantly and dared to take a step closer. "True. But you missed the last one," he countered, his eyebrows rising in triumph.

Before either adult could reply, Nathan jogged up to them partner free. He stood beside his son and placed his hands on his hips. "Seriously guys. We're at a party for kids. Can we cut the PDA down until after the cake's been served?"

The rosy tint of red on Brooke's cheeks darkened instantly as she moved to untie the knot on the rope. She quickly freed herself and offered a small, shy smile to the boys before walking off in the direction from which Nathan came.

Jamie threw his hands in the air and frowned at his father. "Good job, Dad!" He carried his little legs over to Brooke's side, clasping his hand in her larger one as he made small talk with his godmother.

Nathan stared off after them, completely unaware of his brother-in-law until he felt him slap a hand on his back. "Yeah, good job _dad_."

* * *

"So, you and Brooke have been getting along _pretty_ well lately."

Dean groaned and closed his eyes at the nagging sound he'd mentally replaced in his head as Haley's voice. "Don't you have a son to take care of or something?" he asked annoyed as he piled food onto his paper plate.

"As a matter of fact, I do," Haley answered too brightly. "Lucky for me, I also have a husband to help out with that when I want to bug my big brother."

"You must get that irritating gene from your dad's side cos we definitely don't share it."

She laughed once she realized he truly _did_ believe his own words. Haley reached over and looped one arm through his, hugging the bicep she cradled between her hands. Her head automatically found its way towards his arm and she leaned on him easily, just as she had many times when they were younger. "Seriously, though."

"What?" he asked as he put extra relish on his hot dog. "Dude, you're annoying."

She smacked him on the back of the head, satisfied only when he scowled down at her. She smiled brightly despite the glare that appeared to deepen as the seconds passed on. "Oh, stop it. You look like a bulldog."

"What can I say? You bring out the best in me," he muttered.

"No, I think you're mistaking me for Brooke," Haley teased him.

Again, he groaned and rolled his eyes to the heavens above. "What did I do to deserve this?" he said to the sky.

"Stop avoiding the subject and talk to me about Brooke." She actually stomped her foot in determination when she said this. Dean couldn't help himself from chuckling at her impatience.

"There's nothing to talk about."

"Wrong answer," she insisted.

"Well, whatever answer it is you're looking for, you won't find it with me," he told her stubbornly. He bit into his hot dog, moaning in satisfaction as he chewed around the good in his mouth.

But Haley wouldn't be easily thwarted. "So, are you saying that if I want to know anything, I should ask Brooke?" When he continued to ignore her, she allowed her imagination to run with the idea. "Or maybe you want me to ask her, just so I can gauge her own reaction to my question… and report her answer back to you."

His eyes narrowed in her direction as he promptly ceased from chewing. "Seriously?" he asked. "How old are you?"

Haley shook her head and ran a frustrated hand through her short hair. "Yeah, I know. It sounds a little farfetched, but you aren't exactly giving me any information here."

"Most people take that as a sign to drop the conversation all together," Dean told her. "But then again, you've inherited that abnormal gene from your dad."

"Can you please stop insulting my father?" she asked.

"Leave it to you to completely ignore the fact that I'm insulting _you_," he said mockingly.

"You're such a jerk, Dean."

"And you're ugly," he replied quickly before tossing a potato chip in his mouth. He smiled enthusiastically when she fumed at his slick comeback. Leave it to Dean Winchester to render you speechless.

"Fine, we'll change the subject," she relented. "If you intend on beating the crap out of my best friend, could you give me a heads up in advance?"

He shook his head at his sister's inability to accept the fact that he was past the age of ten. "I'm not gonna threaten to kick his ass by the monkey bars at three o'clock if that's what you wanted to hear."

"He's just jealous, Dean. He's not used to seeing Brooke lean on any other guy but him. It's going to take some getting used to, that's all," she defended her best friend.

"And that shouldn't be my problem," he retorted. "Come on, Haley. He takes a shot at me every single time he gets a chance. The little punk is practically begging me to put him in his place."

Haley quickly quieted beside him. She withdrew her arm from his and clasped her hands together on her lap. "Things are such a mess," she said forlornly. When he ducked his head to catch her gaze, she shrugged and sighed at the same time. "You guys used to be so close. I remember all those summers when you taught him how to play basketball."

When he didn't make any move to share the memories with her, she continued on. "You know he remembers those times, don't you? He even remembers Sam Montgomery. The four of us used to have the best times together," she recalled, pastimes from years ago playing in her mind. She turned to look at her brother then, her eyebrows pulled up in genuine wonder. "Speaking of Sam, how's he doing?"

A distant look clouded the color of his eyes as the one question he'd been dreading since coming home was finally asked. Haley remained oblivious to his reaction and continued speaking of her brother's best friend. "Last time I saw him was the last summer I saw you. When you and mom were fighting, he sat with me on the front porch and told me about how much he admired you for having these big dreams and goals for yourself." She swung her gaze towards him and nudged him on the shoulder. "He really looked up to you, you know."

Dean nodded his head once, a somber smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. "Yeah," he croaked incoherently.

"Hey," Haley's instincts kicked in immediately. "Dean, what's the matter?"

He closed his eyes and shook his head once, trying desperately to grab hold of his emotions so he can say what he needed to say without failure. When he opened his eyes once more, his hazel green orbs found hers instantly as he answered her question. "Sam's dead. And before you start asking a million questions, I'm not ready to talk about it."

Her mouth hung open in shock, and before she could compose herself to be strong enough for her big brother, he was gone.

* * *

"You gonna avoid me all day?"

Brooke sighed patiently and cursed her luck at the man that stood behind her. "Luke, I really don't want to get into this now." She turned around to face him and visibly deflated before him. She took in the stubborn set of his jaw and the determined look that gleamed in his eyes. "But of course, you want to do this _now_ so I have no choice, right?"

"I just want to talk," he said objectively, his palms faced forward as he took in the contained anger that flickered in her eyes. "That's all."

"Fine," Brooke said sternly. She put down the slice of cake Jae handed to her earlier and placed her hands on her hips. Where was Dean when she needed him? "Talk."

Luke wearily stepped closer to her, his hands still in the air as if he were preparing for her to explode. "Listen, I don't know what exactly went down between you and Peyton, but you've gotta talk to her. She feels terrible about the fact that the two of you are fighting."

She nodded her head once and titled her head to the side. "I'm sorry that she feels that way, but I can't bring myself to talk to her. Not right now."

"But why?" he asked bewildered.

"Because I _can't_," Brooke repeated firmly. "And seriously, I'd really appreciate it if you stayed out of this."

"Well, _I_ can't. She's my fiancé and you're my—"

"Please," she interrupted him abruptly, placing one hand in the air to stop him from going any further. "Spare me the reminder that I'm just your friend. Your friend who at one point in your life used to be 'the one' for you. I really don't want to hear it."

Luke stood speechlessly, not knowing what to say. "Where the hell did that come from?" The woman in question turned her body away from him, offering nothing more than a glimpse of her profile. Her chin was lowered to her chest as she shifted her head from side to side, wishing to be rid of the man who constantly came back to the forefront of her mind and heart. He mistook her silence as a sign to continue speaking. "We haven't been together in years, Brooke. Why would you say something like that?"

"I don't know," she answered swiftly. She faced her body to his just as quick and squared her shoulders as her arms crossed against her chest again. "Why would you take the time to be _there_ for me when I was having a hard time with Angie? Why did you make yourself readily available to me each and every time I needed you?"

He wanted to scream the right answer to her, but deep down, they both knew he'd be lying. Yes, he was with her every step of the way because they were friends, but really… he wanted to help Brooke in the same way she'd helped all of them so many times. Though there were many things he'd been unsure of during that time, the one thing he didn't question was the fact he _liked_ the person he became when he was with Brooke. She held no expectations for him, nor did she ask for anything that he possibly couldn't give her. She needed _him_, not some fabrication of a man that both Lindsey and Peyton craved for.

And because of that, he found himself slowly falling back into the motions of caring for Brooke Davis in the exact same way he never thought possible.

"That's what I thought," she said calmly, breaking him from his thoughts.

"What are you getting at, Brooke?" he asked patiently.

"I don't know!" she yelled unexpectedly. "I don't know. I'm _angry_, Lucas. I'm pissed off that you and Peyton get to be together while I'm still alone. I hate that you were there for me when I had Angie, and now it feels like I've lost you all over again. I'm mad that Haley and Nathan get to live out their happily ever after!" she inhaled deeply, trying to catch her breath. "I'm mad as hell that a nameless face broke into _my _store and took away my sense of security! I'm upset because I feel so damn powerless, and I'm slowly losing control over my life—yet no one gets it!"

Shame quickly coursed through his veins as he caught a glimpse of the girl whose heart he'd broken not once, but twice all those years ago. Here was the vulnerable, fragile girl she hated displaying to the world, yet the only time she showed her face was with him.

"You all walk around on eggshells, careful not to say the wrong thing, always offering to listen and be there when I need you—but _nobody hears me_," she said painfully. The tears had yet to fall from her eyes and she dared to glance at him, pure pain and anguish radiating through the hazel of her irises. "You wanted to know what I'm getting at?" she said quietly this time. "Now, you know."

Brooke turned on her heel and stomped away from him so suddenly, he almost stopped himself from reaching out to her. "Where are you going?" Luke called out to her.

"I'm going to find Dean," she said decisively. Brooke had her back to him as she reached for her designer purse left on the picnic table before her. She missed the way his face pulled into a tight scowl, his disapproval evident on his face.

"He's not good enough for you."

His words had the opposite effect on her as she turned around and shook her head at his stupidity. "And who is, Luke? _You_?" she asked in mild exasperation. This time, she didn't wait for him to continue, nor did she turn around when he repeatedly called her name.

Unfortunately for Lucas, his heated conversation with his ex-girlfriend wasn't as private as they thought it was.

Peyton Sawyer placed her delicate hand over her chest as she stood a good distance away. She was far enough to be unseen and close enough to hear each and every word.

* * *

Dean stood quietly and scrutinized the little boy as he communicated with the kids that surrounded him. Robby wore his birthday crown proudly, delegating to his friends the roles they would play for the duration of the party. A smirk touched his lips as he deemed Jamie with the role of first knight. Robby explained his nephew's duties as if he truly were a noble king. He was more and more like his father than he could've ever imagined.

Behind him, Jae walked up silently and stood beside him. She folded her arms across her chest and looked out towards her son wordlessly. A million questions raced through her mind at that very moment, yet she didn't know which one to start off with. Luckily for her, Dean broke the silence between him.

"He's getting so big," the detective said in awe of her son.

Jae's heart swelled with pride at the mention of her baby boy. After her he passed away, she focused all of her attention on raising her son to be the kind of person her late-husband Tommy would be proud of. Her life revolved around the happiness of her little boy, and it showed immensely to those who crossed her path. A lump formed in her throat, and she found it hard to speak. "Yeah," she said roughly.

Dean recognized the catch in her voice but refused to take a look at her. Jae was a strong woman who'd been dealt a whole lot more than any person should handle at such an early age. Yet and still, she overcame every obstacle with little to no complaints, always looking for the sunlight during the storm. Neither breaking down nor being emotional was a common characteristic of the young woman so he spared her the embarrassment of acknowledging her suffering and continued on. "He looks so much like his father."

A fresh coat of tears lined her eyes as her throat burned with thickness. It'd been a while since anyone—besides her mother in law—had made that same reference. Not that it was impossible to notice. Her little man was looking more and more like Tommy every single day. It was both a blessing and a curse at the same time. "He throws temper tantrums like him, too," she joked hoarsely.

He smiled at that thought and shook his head softly. "Man, don't tell me he inherited the _crybaby Andrews_ gene," he asked begrudgingly, swinging his eyes towards her when she chuckled.

"You'd be amazed the things he inherited from Tommy's side of the family," Jae told him proudly. They watched silently while Robby switched a tree branch from one of Jamie's shoulders to the other, knighting the young boy as his first in command. "Look at him," she laughed breathlessly. "I don't think I've ever seen him this happy since…"

Dean nodded his head as he swallowed past the ball caught in his own throat. He'd been avoiding this subject since he'd laid eyes on her earlier. Truth be told, he'd been avoiding this conversation with anyone and everyone who wanted to talk about the events that took place months before he returned to Tree Hill. And now, whether he wanted to or not, he would have to come 

face to face with reality… with the one person who might understand his pain more than anyone he knew. "I didn't know that you were here," he said finally. "In Tree Hill, I mean."

She waved a hand away, shrugging off the apology without a thought. "No one does, really. Ever since Tom passed away, we've all been laying low. Gramma Jean's still taking it pretty hard."

"Gramma Jean," Dean repeated in awe. "Man, it's been a while since I've seen Aunt Jean," he shook his head sadly. "I'm sorry I couldn't make it to the funeral."

Jae nodded her head once more, never taking her eyes off her son. "It's okay. Sam explained that you were in the middle of a high profile case—"

"Still," he replied firmly. "I should've been there. I _wanted _to be there."

"Just like I wanted to be there for you." She found the strength to meet his eyes then, her eyes expressing the sorrow she felt for the man before her. "I'm so sorry—"

He thwarted her apologies with the palm of his hand, stopping the heartfelt words from tumbling from her mouth. "Please," he told her earnestly. "You don't owe me any explanations." When she moved to speak further, he quickly turned on the Winchester charm and attempted to change the subject. "Besides, I'm sure you're full of questions that you're dying to ask me, so why don't we let the interrogation begin?"

Her eyes shifted their focus once she realized that Dean was done talking about the ghosts from his past. Jae chose not to press the subject any further and opted to shelve the conversation for another time. "To be honest, I only have one question."

Dean raised his eyebrows in mild suspense, urging her to continue.

"Earlier, when Nathan was making the introductions… Why did you act like we've never met before?"

"Hey," Brooke interrupted them at that very moment. The two turned to face her with wide-eyed expressions. Neither one had heard her approach, and judging by the way her eyes darted from everywhere but directly at them, Dean figured she hadn't heard their conversation. "I don't mean to be rude," she said this to Jae. "But I really need to get out of here."

She looked promptly at Dean, her eyes pleading with him to help her.

Without hesitation, he nodded his head and held out his hand to her. She visibly relaxed and took his outstretched hand within her own. "We're out of here," he said assuredly, directing them to his car. He turned around once to share a silent message with Jae, promising an explanation as soon as he made sure Brooke was okay.

Judging by the look on her face and the death grip she had on his hand, he figured that conversation would be on the backburner for a while.

* * *

_**Author's Note:** SO. Originally, I wasn't planning on having Dean having any sort of relationship with Jae Andrews. However, a review from **miralinda** put the idea in my head and I sort of took it and ran with it. The character of Jae will play a significant role in this story as her life will run in parallel with the other characters. This note is to inform you all how serious I am in regards to your feedback. Your suggestions and kind words not only encourage me to write more, but it also trickles ideas I never would've formed had it not been for your reviews. So incase I haven't said it enough, thank __allof you for taking the time to review my story._

_Also, I created a credit reel for the characters in the story. If you're interested in viewing it, please go to the youtube website and search for my username: FOREVERTWENTY2. The video can be found under my profile with the name: **Collide - The Credit Reel** attached to it. Thanks!_


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